


Cursive

by R48



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:38:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R48/pseuds/R48
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Siegbert started work at the local cafe under his boss Jakob to help with his shyness. Shiro, the rugby team captain, needs a tutor. </p><p>Modern coffee shop AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _**Cursive:** written with the characters joined._

_ Cursive _

  
  


_ \-- Chapter One --  _

  
  


It was the best time of early Autumn. The warm light reflected soft tones on every surface, dying the scenery in a comforting orange from the afternoon into the late evenings. The cafe at which he worked, bathed in the light of the evening sunset, set a tender warm mood which contributed to all the customers that had come in today. The busiest hours had already passed and only a trickle of patrons had entered in the past hour. Now, lingering customers sat and chatted at the tables which left him with nothing to do at the till. He busied himself with wiping the machines down after use during the day. 

He had started this job out of necessity though not in the monetary sense. People made him nervous, he was timid and this job served as a way for him to curb his fear. It was easier now, taking orders did not require much speaking and occasionally customers would start a conversation with him - small talk he began to think, was not so difficult as long as it never deviated from weather or schoolwork. At the end of the day, he felt it could even be rewarding. If not for this job, he would be studying in his room missing the sun setting in front of him at this moment.

Siegbert saw one of the remaining customers pack up to leave, giving a friendly wave before heading out the door which he returned. A college student and regular here, who frequented during midterms and finals and always ordered the same beverage. He smiled and put down the blender and carefully replaced the blade inside. Grabbing another, he kept his eyes on the windows that let the sunlight pour into the cafe. 

Customers rarely deviated from specific groups. Adults grabbing a coffee with friends during the afternoon, students either ordering smoothies before rushing back to class or camping themselves at a table cramming for a test, or children with parents stopping by for a treat after a day apart. He chewed his cheek - he hated this feeling. Envy was juvenile. He thought of something else, to the first dates and break ups he had witnessed while working. It was with the utmost control that he diverted his eyes away from those scenes. Romantic love was not something he had ever experienced and admittedly, secretly, he was curious.

But there were no couples here, there remained only an older gentleman reading the paper and a young woman on her laptop. Siegbert thought to start putting the chairs up and sweep the floor for tomorrow. His boss had stayed in the back after rush hour, leaving him alone at the front. As if on cue, he emerged with dramatic flourish making a beeline for the espresso maker with an unsettling expression. Siegbert had to ask, it was the polite thing to do.

“Is anything the matter, Jakob?”

“I’m fine, Siegbert, nothing you could help with. I must apologize though since I had to call you in today.” Jakob said matter-of-factly. Siegbert saw his brows draw together in the reflection of the machine. “Dwyer claims to feel unwell today.”

“Yes, he told me the same.” Siegbert agreed. He was familiar enough from working with Dwyer to know that he was just taking the day off but there was no reason to add oil to Jakob’s already ablaze fire regarding his son. Dwyer was never one to work two days in a row.

Jakob sighed and straightened his back so that he stood upright. His eyes never left the machine as he spoke. “I don’t understand.” He shook his head in frustration and folded his hands behind his back. “Just how does he make such a delicious espresso?”

Siegbert laughed softly as Jakob began inspecting the coffee beans. The cafe usually played mainstream pop during peak hours from the local radio station, it was only during this time that he could play his own classical playlist. He finished wiping the blender and placed it back in the stand. Siegbert was looking for something else to wipe when a customer walked in. 

Jakob grabbed him by the shoulder with a smile plastered on his face. He was obviously still irritated at Dwyer by the vice like grip of his hand. “Ah look Siegbert, how wonderful it is to see a new customer. He’s so green! Isn’t it the best feeling watching them struggle with the menu board?” His voice laced with honey.

There was nothing he could say to this so he waited for Jakob to continue his criticism.

“Gym bag, athletic wear, reeks of sweat - he’s all yours! Make sure to close up, I'm going to discipline my son.” Jakob gave him a slight push on the shoulder and floated off into the back to grab his things before leaving. 

Siegbert kept his eyes on the customer. It was a rare opportunity to be able to stare at someone so shamelessly but the young man was so focused on the menu Siegbert allowed himself this small token of rudeness. His physique, Siegbert noted, was the athletic ideal. Though shorter than himself, he had strong arms and a well proportioned muscular body. He could see the outline of his chest through the red dri fit t-shirt he wore. The young man turned towards the door and Siegbert saw that it was damp with sweat that had soaked through the fabric. He thought the young man was going to leave but he turned back again to face the menu, squinting his eyes at what was written.

Was the writing too small, Siegbert thought nervously. I should rewrite it for tomorrow. Moving behind the cash register, he took the notepad from underneath and jotted it down quickly as a reminder. He would have to rewrite this note in his day planner. Normally when working with Dwyer, he kept it with him but Jakob he found out, liked to snoop. When he looked back up, the customer was waiting for him, standing in front of the till. 

The customer, though probably the same or only a year or two older than him unsettled him. It was the same feeling he had whenever he looked at his father - insecure and overly conscious. He knew that in front of him stood a capable person.

Siegbert quickly tried to recover himself. This will be good practice as well, he noted.

“..c-can I help you?” he asked politely. He stood so that he faced the customer squarely and brushed off the non existing dust from his apron.

“Yeah, I want to order something.” He answered. He spoke with a low, clear voice.

“O-of course, what would you like?” Siegbert logged into the cash register and waited. He cursed himself for his shakiness.

“...I’m not sure. Something to keep me awake.” He placed his hand at the nape of his neck as if to support an invisible burden. His grey eyes returned to the menu board above Siegbert’s head.

“...keep you awake?” he repeated. “Would an espresso suffice?” 

The customer’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah! I’ve heard of that. I’ll take...let’s see...five? No, ten! Ten sounds good. I need to stay awake all night! Man, I should’ve figured this out before jumping the gun like this.” He dug out his wallet from the side pocket of his gym bag.

“Ten is a bit much…,” Siegbert said hesitantly. He had never given feedback like this to a customer before but the young man obviously had no idea around coffee. It was a matter of health not personal bias.

“Ah is it…,” he tilted his head to the side like some sort of giant dog. “How many should I get then? I don’t really know much about this stuff.”

“How about just one to start out.” Siegbert suggested. “Have you ever had espresso before?”

The young man shook his head.

“It’s quite bitter, so let’s see if you like it first. If you want more, I’ll make them for you to go.”

“Woah, thanks! Sure, one it is. You’re really saving me here, bro.” He smiled widely, grey eyes crinkling at the corners like a storm outstretched with lightning.

Siegbert blinked. “S-sure, thank you for your order. May I have your name please?”

“Shiro.”

“‘U’ at the end?”

“Just an ‘o’”

Siegbert nodded, eyes on the cup as he carefully and deliberately wrote the letters larger than usual. Shiro had moved to the side after paying and waited for his order, his eyes going back to the menu board.

Siegbert made the drink carefully, keeping his back to Shiro as he added a bit of sweetener to curb the bitter taste of the espresso. If it had been Dwyer or Jakob the espresso would be velvety and the added sweetener unnecessary, he thought as the finished the shot and poured it carefully into the cup. He shook his head then as if to remove those thoughts from his head. He completed the drink methodically, reciting the instructions in his head as he continued. He could feel Shiro's eyes on his back as he worked.

He relaxed after finishing the drink and secured the lid tightly, not realizing he had been holding his breath. Then, he turned and slowly walked the hot beverage to the pick up counter.

“Shiro” he said, meeting his eyes. He did not have to speak loudly; Shiro's eyes had never left him.

“Thanks.” Shiro replied. He took the cup with a large hand and lifted it to his lips.

“It’s hot!” Siegbert blurted out. “Be careful.” He flushed at his own outspokenness. 

“Oh, guess I’ll wait then.” Shiro took the cup away from his lips, turning it around in his hand. His eyes stopped as he looked at his name in Siegbert’s handwriting. “Hey, this is really nice. You wrote this?”

Siegbert nodded.

Shiro studied him for a minute, grey eyes looking him up and down long enough to cause Siegbert to turn away in embarrassment. “Are you...the type to study a lot? You look...kinda uptight.” Shiro asked.

“Well...I do study quite a bit,” he admitted, “but did you really have to add in that last part?”

Shiro laughed. “Awesome! I figured you had to if your handwriting is this nice. Did you write out the menu too?”

Siegbert nodded again. I don’t think penmanship and intellect have much correlation, he thought.

“Yeah, I thought so! I was just connecting the dots, can’t believe I hit the jackpot. When I saw it I was like woah the writing looks legit! I've never even considered that before, first time I even noticed a person’s writing. I didn’t really understand all the words though. What is a ‘quad, half caf, no whip, no foam, sugar-free, venti whatever it was? Do people actually order that kind of stuff?”

He smiled at Shiro’s exasperated expression. “You’d be surprised. It is my job as a barista to accommodate every order.” he said. “But my penmanship isn't anything special, you should see my father's..” 

Shiro smirked with a slight shake of his head. “Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh? Well I don’t know what any of that means, I just needed something to stay awake. I’m pulling an all nighter tonight. There’s a midterm tomorrow that I absolutely have to pass.”

“I understand. May I ask how the studying is going?”

“I don’t know yet. That’s why I’m pulling an all-nighter.” Shiro blew into the small opening of the lid. 

Siegbert’s mouth fell open. “If you have to pass, why did you wait until now to study?”

“Ahh...I just can’t focus long on something so boring. I thought if I did it all tonight in one go then I’d be set for tomorrow.” He explained sheepishly.

“The look on your face tells me that you know this is not a correct way of thinking. When is it tomorrow?” Siegbert continued. 

“First period.” Again, a chagrined answer. He looked to the side, clearly knowing he was in the wrong. It felt like scolding a grade schooler. 

“First period? You only have half a day to study then. And why are you starting now? It’s past 8 already.” 

Shiro frowned. “Well I get what you’re saying...but hear me out here. I had classes in the morning, then rugby practice, then I got hungry, and I usually fall asleep after getting home from practice so I thought to get coffee and here we are.” He ended his short rant with a defeated spread of his arms, careful of the coffee still in his hand.

“I can’t believe it, you’re remarkably calm for having put yourself in this position.”

“Hey how about you help me study? You any good at history?” He looked back at Siegbert now. Shiro’s eyes shone bright and eager.

“You want  _ my  _ help?,” Siegbert stuttered.

“I know it’s a lot to ask but I could really use the help and it doesn’t have to be for the whole night. Just help me get started. I’ll definitely pay you back!” Shiro pleaded.

“I...well I’m not sure I can be of help with your schoolwork…,” Siegbert mumbled.

“I’m sure you can! You know where bottom is when it comes to history? I’m about 6 feet under that so any help would be good! Please, Siegbert!” Shiro leaned his body weight over the pick up counter and folded his forearms on top. He looked like a giant dog on his hind legs, Siegbert noted.

Siegbert hesitated at the use of his name. It always embarrassed him when customers looked at his nametag. He forced his eyes off Shiro’s forearms. “I’m not sure if I could..what level is it?”

“Third year history.”

“Oh, we’re the same age then. I guess...I could help. I've always found history interesting.” He said finally. 

“Woah thanks so much buddy! I definitely owe you one! What time are you finished work?” Shiro adjusted the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder. 

“I’m done at 9 but I’ll start closing in about 15 minutes if you want to wait.” Siegbert answered.

“Yeah, sure. We could go to my house. No one’s home so you could stay over-”

Siegbert’s flush had Shiro stop mid-sentence. His brows lifted when his words sunk in and his flush matched that of Siegbert’s. “I-I mean in our guest room! We have a guest room! O-or...anywhere else! Whatever works for you.” Desperately he tried to save himself, Shiro's hand went to the nape of his neck again, looking down at his feet.

Siegbert turned away helplessly trying to hide his embarrassment. “Let’s just stay here, Jakob won’t mind as long as we don’t steal anything and it’s clean in the morning. Just pick a table...over there," he waved his finger vaguely to the seats in front of the windows of the cafe, "and get started while I finish up.”

“S-sure thing!” Shiro stammered, still flustered from their earlier exchange. “Do you need any help with closing?”

“No, I’m fine." Siegbert said. _Please just go._ "The boxes aren’t at all heavy but thanks for the offer.” He desperately wanted to crawl away and hide behind the counter. 

With that, Shiro trotted over to a nearby table with drink in hand. He chose a wooden table by the fireplace with two cushioned seats facing the windows. Shiro began extracting notebooks, textbooks, and pens from his gym bag after what Siegbert noticed to be thrown in with runners, athletic tape, and towels. When he saw Shiro seated comfortably with his head finally in a book, Siegbert walked swiftly to the storage room and closed the door behind him. His heart was still racing from earlier. He covered his face with a hand and rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. _Am I really so transparent?_ Leaning against the door, he slid down into a squat and dropped his head. He hoped to the gods that no more customers would come in tonight.

\---

Chairs stacked up on the table, cash out completed, and door locked, Siegbert sat poised beside a listless Shiro with history notes and flashcards scattered around them. 

Shiro sighed. “My brain is exhausted.” He brought the cup to his lips and took another swig. “You know,” he began, drawing circles on the lid with his finger, “people said espresso is really bitter but it’s actually kind of sweet.”

Of course it is, since I added sweetener, Siegbert thought. “Pay attention please, Shiro. The only way you can pass this exam is if you actually read the passages.”

“This is seriously boring stuff. Maybe it’s hopeless. I'm just not really into politics.” Shiro pressed his cheek onto the wooden table. His bangs fell into his eyes and Siegbert couldn’t help but think that this was what he looked like when waking. He forced his gaze away, pulling a textbook closer to himself.

“Start by reading the question and understand what they’re asking you. Then skim the passage looking for the same keywords to help you answer your question. Instead of remembering everything as singular facts, think of them like an interconnected story to make it more interesting. Those keywords should help jog your memory when reading them so it would be wise for you to be aware of them. It’ll be a good way to save time...in case you fall asleep during your test tomorrow… er..today.” He said with a smile.

“Funny. But tempting.” Shiro’s lips quirked up at the corner. “What time is it anyways?”

“A little past 2 in the morning. Don’t you dare give up now, you’re not even close to ready.”

“I’m not, I’m not. There are just a million other things I’d rather be doing right now. Notably sleeping. Eating is another. But thanks for staying with me, Siegbert. Isn’t it getting late for you now? I could walk you home if you’d like.”

Siegbert raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like I need you to escort me?”

“Nah, that’s not what I meant.” Another smirk and Siegbert’s heart skipped. “But it’s the least I could do.” Shiro’s tousled hair gave him a boyish air. His smile was as guileless as his offer.

Siegbert found himself laughing. “I don’t mind staying here.” His answer was honest and in a moment of daring he admitted, “I have a hard time saying no. I think that should be clear to you.”

“I’m a lucky man to have met you.” Shiro chuckled. “I should be thanking you instead of complaining. If you ever think of something I could do for you, let me know! I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you. We’re pals now, you know?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. How about you just worry about passing for now. Read the next passage and answer the two questions under it.” 

Shiro lifted his head with a small groan. “Sure thing, pal.”

\---

The shrill sound of the alarm woke Siegbert to the bright sunlight seeping in through the cafe's windows. Having woken first, Siegbert found himself able to witness a sleeping Shiro seated next to him with a book under his head. He turned off the alarm, allowing him a few more minutes of rest. They had stayed awake for most of the night, until Shiro had started building a fort with his textbooks and Siegbert knew nothing else was going to stick in his brain. He helplessly admired Shiro’s face now, far more closely than he ever thought possible. Though his stocky body was what people would initially notice about him, Siegbert thought it a shame since his face was just as much if not more worthy of attention. 

He rested his head in his hand, drinking in the sight before him. The light from the sunrise bathed him in gold. Thick brown hair, tousled from his seated sleeping position had remained held back by his black braided headband. With his eyes closed, Siegbert could see thin brown lashes spread outward like sunrays spilling from his lids. A nose that was regal and straight, unharmed from athletics and full lips slightly chapped from sleeping with his mouth ajar.

Siegbert noticed he had inched his face closer in examination and he pulled himself back with a sigh. He stroked Shiro lightly on his forearm to wake him. With a slight rouse, Shiro’s eyes fluttered open and after a couple blinks at Siegbert, they widened in realization.

“Oh crap, I fell asleep! What time is it?” Shiro’s eyes went to the windows to see the sun rising. He brought a hand up to shield them from the bright light.

“A little past 7:30. The morning staff is going to be here in about ten minutes, you should leave before they arrive.” He spoke as gently as he could.

“Yeah sure, my uniform is in my bag anyways, I’ll get changing. You actually ended up staying the whole night, huh? I really appreciate it.” He gathered the papers and stuffed them into his bag without a care. Then, he fished around his bag once more, tugging out a wrinkled button up shirt and creased dress pants wadded into a ball.

“You’re welcome. I’m going to go home before I - you’re changing here?! Couldn't you at least go to the bathroom?!” The back of Siegbert’s neck flared as Shiro pulled his gym shirt off exposing the sharp cutting lines of his abdominal muscles.

“What’s the harm? Turn around if you don’t want to see.” Shiro had moved on to untying the drawstring of his shorts.

“I don’t  _ need _ to see. I have to clean some things up so go on ahead.” He turned around, facing the espresso maker which he used to catch Shiro’s reflection.

“Sure thing. Alright I’m done, you can turn around now.” Shiro said. Siegbert could hear the faintest of amusement in his voice. He tried to keep his face neutral as he turned around and it worked, until he saw Shiro’s school uniform.

“That crest…,” Siegbert began.

“Yeah, I go to I.F Private High School. Go Dragons and all that. You have my number now, right? Don’t be a stranger, bro. Anyways, see you later.”

Siegbert nodded. They had exchanged phone numbers during their night together. “R-right...good luck Shiro.” 

With a quick wave over his shoulder he was off. Siegbert watched his retreating figure until he was out of sight. From behind him, the back door opened and Dwyer walked in with eye bags and bed hair, supporting himself with a broom from the supply closet.

“Good morning, Dwyer.” He greeted. “I didn’t know you were opening this morning.”

“Morning. Oh yeah, my old man threw a fit when I skipped yesterday so he told me to come in before class and get everything ready for when he arrives. Thanks for covering for me yesterday.” He yawned. “You’re here early, Siegbert...don’t you have classes today too?”

“Yeah, I should be leaving. I thought I’d help you a bit with opening.” He looked around the cafe and his eyes caught the espresso maker. His thoughts drifted back to Shiro’s figure in it’s reflection and he grew lightheaded.

“Ahh that’s great of you to offer. How about you start on the chairs and I’ll count the cash? Oh, first let me make you coffee, you look like you need it.” He shuffled himself to the espresso maker using the broom like a walking stick.

“Thank you Dwyer. I guess I could stay for a little while.” 

\---

The results of the midterms were posted on the boards outside of the school a week later. Siegbert, though he had lost a night of studying to help Shiro, still managed to rank first in his class. He politely thanked his classmates for congratulating him and sent a quick text to his father informing him of his results. He slipped the phone back into his pocket, his father rarely answered promptly because of his busy schedule but he would reply later tonight like always. It used to upset him when he was younger and greedy but he had long since grown out of those expectations. 

Out of curiosity, he went down the lineup of boards to see the results of other students. While skimming through names he was not familiar with, he started to worry as he was neared the end of the 300 member class list. Finally, he breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Shiro’s name, a good 200 people after his own and on the very last board in the line. 

“Siegbert?!” A voice called out behind him. He already knew who it was before he turned around.

“Ho there, Shiro.” 

Shiro, jogged the remaining few meters to him, a friend of his, Siegbert assumed, following behind in an unhurried walk. Siegbert gazed at Shiro, his uniform was pressed and crisp so unlike the wrinkled mess of clothing he had seen him pull on from when they were together. Thinking back to that, Siegbert amused himself with how his cousin Forrest would have reacted to seeing Shiro’s disheveled appearance. Shiro had reached him now, breathing steady from the short jog in the warm sun of the afternoon.

“You go here?! It’s great to see you again.” Shiro gave him a good slap on the shoulder. 

“Yes, I did not think to mention it.” Siegbert said simply; he felt his shoulder throb. “I see you managed to pass, congratulations.”

Shiro’s face brightened in appreciation. “Thanks to you. Seriously, I owe you big. Still...I should have asked, sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to see you too, Shiro.” Siegbert said. His eyes shifted to Shiro’s friend who had finally caught up to them.

“Oh, this is my pal, Asugi.” Shiro shifted over when Asugi reached them.

Asugi was built smaller and more slender than Shiro with explosive red hair and a sucker sticking out from his mouth. Siegbert could only tell it was a sucker guessing from the small handful Asugi kept in his shirt pocket. He wore his uniform haphazardly, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, and his tie loose and knotted carelessly. When he lifted his arms behind his head, Siegbert could see the defined shape of his triceps from his exposed arms.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Siegbert.” He extended his hand.

“Oh, so you’re Shiro’s guardian angel. Like he said, I’m Asugi. The pleasure’s all mine, Lemon.” He grasped Siegbert’s hand in a firm shake. “Shiro, since when did you become friends with the smartest guy at school?”

“What are you talking about? Have you two met before? Why didn’t you introduce me sooner?” Shiro badgered. 

“Seriously, you can be such a meathead. Lemon here is the top ranked student in our entire year. He’s also general Xander’s son. I bet his notes would sell for a small fortune.” He swished his sucker to the other side of his mouth with his tongue.

“I-I’m not smart! I just try to study. I’m nowhere near the level of my father. I shouldn’t even be compared to him.” Siegbert waved his hands in front of him as to dismiss the thought. He felt the back of his neck heating up again. _So, I guess I’m a lemon now?_

“Hmm..sure,” Asugi shrugged. “If you got this guy to pass, you have to be something special.”

Shiro gave Asugi a playful shove. “Ah whatever dude! Guess your dad is some kind of big cheese huh? Well anyways Siegbert, I really never knew you went here. We’re in the same year and everything.” He folded his arms and tilted his head. “Where have you been all this time?”

“This guy is in one of the college prep classes, of course you’d never run into him.” Asugi chided lightly.

“Don’t think on it too much, Shiro.” Siegbert added. “I’ve actually never been to this side of the board during test results so I had no idea either until I saw your uniform.”

Shiro laughed. “Well that’s true! I’ve never had any reason to look for names at the top of the class myself.”

Asugi eyed him and with a jab at Shiro’s side said, “Amazing how you say that without any shame.”

Siegbert couldn’t help but chuckle at their playfulness. Too soon, the bell rang for the end of break. He was a little disappointed to be saying good bye but he wasn’t one to doddle.

“I’ll see you, Shiro and it was nice meeting you, Asugi.” Siegbert said, taking his leave. He gave a slight nod to them both.

“You bet.” Asugi replied.

“Ah so soon,” Shiro frowned. “I’ll see you later, Siegbert.”

Siegbert began walking back to the building for college prep classes when he heard Shiro call out to him.

 

“Siegbert! Remember to think of something I can thank you with! I’ll be waiting!” Shiro yelled across the courtyard. Siegbert turned back to look at him as did many other students. Shiro, unaware, waved radiantly over his head and beamed at Siegbert.

“Of course, until next time Shiro!” He answered back. What an infectious guy, he thought.

Siegbert turned around and continue to his classroom. He felt Shiro’s insistence a little peculiar but blamed it on his over friendly nature. Still, it was a bit odd having someone want to do something for him other than maids and butlers. The words had branded themselves in his mind as he took a seat at his desk. Though it was unnecessary, he pulled out his planner and in his finest pen he carefully and deliberately wrote the letters larger than usual - “Shiro”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always thought of Shiro and Siegbert as what their fathers would have been like when they were younger. Maybe if the nations weren’t so divided this would be them in another life. Anyways, I really love couples that have a mutual admiration for each other. I hope you enjoy this story. I apologize for this chapter being so long, I didn’t realize they would have so much dialogue when I began writing. The following chapters will (hopefully) be much shorter...but no promises. Reading, commenting, reviewing, and even clicking on this story is always so appreciated. Thank you in advance! I’m grateful to you all =]


	2. Chapter 2

Cursive

 

\-- Chapter Two --

 

“So,” Asugi began as they walked back inside, “mind telling me what that was.”

“What what was?” Shiro said. He feigned innocence in an effort to stall for time before Asugi’s questioning.

Asugi shot him down effortlessly. “You think I’m an idiot?” He spun around, walking backwards as he spoke to Shiro in a mockingly shrill voice and waved his arms over his head. “I’ll be waiting! Anything for you, my dear Siegbert!” Dropping his hands, he placed them back behind his head and pointedly looked at Shiro. “That was you.”

“You made that last part up.”

Asugi shrugged and took the sucker out of his mouth, waving it in front of him as he spoke. “You might as well have said that.”

“He really saved me on that midterm okay? Gimme a break. It was nothing else.” He insisted, speaking half to himself. They had reached the lockers and changed into their indoor shoes before stepping inside the building. “I’m thirsty, let’s go to the vending machine first.”

“Roger.” Asugi had finished his sucker and disposed of the stick in the garbage can. Neither spoke as they walked up to the second floor of the building. 

His thoughts wandered back to Asugi’s teasing; it was not without unfounded suspicion. Something had changed within him when he saw Siegbert turn away. His eyes had caught the light of Siegbert’s hair in the sun; the shade had turned lucid, almost white, while the rest had remained golden. He thought of how much he would have liked to feel it between his fingers. 

Shiro drew his brows together, a line on his forehead pressed itself up against the headband he wore. He landed his footsteps heavily on the cold tiles of the corridor, dragging his feet, back slouching. Asugi walked next to him, casually watching the students below through the window. Shiro turned his head slightly to see if there was anything of interest and saw Asugi’s eyes flicker away from him. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Asugi said. “It creeps me out when you’re quiet.”

He chuckled but said no more. It wasn’t until they had reached the vending machine that Shiro finally spoke.

“Do you think he thought that way about me too?” he said, flushing, embarrassed of his own insecurity.

“Who are we talking about here?” Asugi teased, his eyes on the vending machine and voice saturated in sarcasm. Shiro leaned against the side of the vending machine with his arms crossed. 

“Siegbert,” He said impatiently. This is a waste of time, he thought and told him so. Then, “how about you just tell me what you’re thinking.”

A huff of laughter and Asugi said, “Well, you did seem a little too eager.” He inserted gathered coins into the machine and with a dexterous flick of his fingers, selected an item on one of the middle slots. Seconds later, Asugi dug out a bag of gummy worms from the dispenser. He put one in his mouth, holding it between his lips and grabbed another, dangling it in front of Shiro. “Want one?”

“Yeah sure, thanks.” Shiro took the gummy worm and lifted it over his head, dropping the candy into his mouth like a baby bird. He chewed for a moment before continuing. “But isn’t it funny how all this stuff just kind of worked out?” After a pause, “I like him,” he admitted. “He’s a good guy. It wasn’t weird even once, well...I guess except for the part where I asked him to sleep over-”

“Woah hold on there.” Asugi interrupted. “What did you say to him?” 

“What? Don’t give me that look, I meant to study. It just...came out all wrong when I said it.”

Asugi lifted his brows. He wore a smirk on his face, resembling an alley cat. “Gods...you better not let Nina hear you saying stuff like that.”

“Anyways,” Shiro said, “meeting him and getting along so well, it kind of felt like...our fates were intertwined...or something.” 

Asugi said, “you’ve been talking to that Ophelia girl haven’t you?”

He shrugged. “She is my lab partner.”

Asugi shook his head, turning his attention to the vending machine again. His eyes darted over each of the items, looking for something else to buy. “Gods, I’m surprised he didn’t hit you.” He paused allowing the air to settle into a change. “Are you sure?” 

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “I’m not sure...how to be sure,” he confessed.

“You could always fight him,” Asugi suggested. “Seems to solve all your other problems.”

Shiro frowned. “You know what - nevermind. Not going to do this. You’re not the guy I want to talk about this kind of stuff with.” He pushed himself away from the vending machine. “Okay, you’re done here. My turn. I want to get something.” He shoved him so that he could stand in front of the vending machine and find something to distract himself. He was still thirsty. 

“Ugh, the hell was that for?” Asugi said.

Shiro ignored him, digging into his pocket for loose change. Asugi could see him eyeing the buffalo chicken seasoned potato chips. He got out some change of his own and tapped Shiro on the shoulder. “I’m just saying, you always charge straight ahead into everything without giving it some thought.” He stopped, allowing the words to weigh down on him. “He’s a guy you know?” He said the last part slowly, in careful implication. Shiro turned to face him and Asugi held out the change.

Softening, understanding, he said. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” He felt the heat of a flush on his cheeks. “Thanks Asugi.”

Asugi placed the coins in his hand wordlessly and went to look out the window, waiting for him to finish. Shiro inserted the coins slowly, one by one into the slot. He knew it was not a problem for him. This did not require much thought on his part. He had grown up knowing that people will always think what they wanted to, it was all you could do to live your life as happily as you can. Whether Siegbert thought that, whether he thought of him, that he didn’t know. Lost in his thoughts, the coin in his hand slipped through his fingers and landed sharply on the bottom of the vending machine, bouncing off the lid of the dispenser and rolled down the hallway.

“Ack!,” he chased the coin down as Asugi snickered behind him. “Come back here you!” 

“Shiro, wait! No, stop!” A startled voice called out but he had charged forward with his head down, unable to see their identity. Too late to change course, he stumbled into them head first, headbutting them in the stomach. His weight lunged him forward and they both toppled over, a book and the coin landing next to where they fell. 

“I’m so sorry!” Shiro apologized quickly before looking up. “Oh it’s you, Nina.” He had promptly pulled himself off of her, kneeling cautiously out of her arm’s reach in case she swung. He looked to the floor and picked up the book that had fallen. “Is this yours?” He flipped it over to read the cover: ‘Captive Prince’. “Were we supposed to read this for history?” 

“Give that back!” Nina snatched the book out of his hands and clutched it to her chest. “I was looking for you! Class started ten minutes ago!” Shiro had stood and extended his hand to help her. She grasped it tightly and he pulled her up in a smooth motion after she flattened out her wrinkled top. Asugi had made his way beside them after witnessing their collision. 

“You alright there, Nina?” he asked playfully. 

“Asugi! I thought you two would be together. Gods, Shiro, you ran into me like a boar on a rampage. Could you care to watch where you’re going? What were you doing with your head down?” Nina said.

“I was following that coin, sorry Nina,” Shiro said in apology. He reached over and picked it up from the floor.

“Figures,” she said. 

“Yeah, looked painful.” said Asugi. “Shouldn’t have been walking with your head in a book.”

“Oh shut up.” 

“Guess we should be heading back?” said Asugi, cheerfully.

“You guessed right. Let’s go before we get into any more trouble.” Nina began walking with Shiro about to follow. 

“Oh wait! What about my-,” Shiro turned back to the vending machine. Asugi lifted a bag of buffalo chicken chips and a bottle of water in front of him. 

He smiled at Shiro and raised an eyebrow. 

\---

“So why were you guys sneaking off by yourselves before?” Nina asked. She spun around in her chair, facing Asugi who was seated behind her. They had finished their last class of the day; his bag sat neatly on the floor beside him, unopened.

“Hm us? Just wanted some alone time together. You know, just us guys.” He said simply.

Nina’s eyes sparkled in obvious interest. “What were you talking about?” She demanded.

“Oh you wouldn’t be interested,” said Asugi, toying with her. He pulled a sucker out of his pocket and unwrapped it slowly, peeling away at the foil with utmost care before placing it in his mouth.

Nina leaned against her chair, edging herself closer to Asugi as Shiro watched from his desk. He had been distracted all afternoon and the day had ended abruptly to his surprise. His textbook, though on his desk, laid unopened and the cover warm from hours in the hot afternoon sun. To be frank with himself, it was not the first time he had daydreamed an afternoon of class away. However, it was the first time that this was caused by the thought of another man.

“Hey guys, what would you think…,” he said, testing the waters. Nina and Asugi’s heads swiveled around to him. “What do you think about two guys together?” He fumbled through the words, crudely rushing them together.

Nina immediately scooted her chair up beside him. She grabbed his hands and said to him. “I think the world of that.” 

Shiro’s focus shifted to Asugi who sighed when their eyes met. “I don’t care either way. But my opinion isn’t the one you should be worried about.” Simple. Knife like. Shiro never needed to explain his thoughts to him.

“That’s true.” said Shiro. Then he looked back at Nina, uncomfortably. “Nina, could you let go of me?” 

Nina released his hands and looked back and forth between them. He could see the gears clicking as her mind worked. “Oh wow! So you weren’t kidding there, were you Asugi?” She said.

Asugi shook his head. “Nope. This guy’s got it bad.”

“So Shiro,” Nina began, her tone dripping with approval. “Who’s the lucky guy? Spare no detail.”

If he was asked to come up with a word for it, he could only describe Nina’s eagerness as unsettling. He pushed the thought aside, deeming her imagination to be harmless and told her everything he could think of about his night with Siegbert. As he spoke, Nina had taken a small leather notebook out from her bag and began writing. Had her hand moved any faster across the paper, Shiro thought, it would have flown off her wrist. When he was finished, Nina continued with her writing briefly before holding her notebook away from herself in an expression of satisfaction. 

“You have great eyes,” said Nina, looking at him, blue eyes sparkling. “He’s the smartest, most gentlemanly guy in our school. And he’s cute to boot!” 

“You know him too?” Shiro said incredulously. “Am I the only one who didn’t know who he was before last week?”

“How could you not? He made the opening ceremony speech.” Nina flipped one of her pigtails behind her back. 

“Oh yeah, I slept in that day.” Shiro said. 

“That cafe he works at apparently makes a mean americano.” Nina jotted something down quickly in the margins of her notebook. “But anyways, are you sure? You guys are complete opposites.” She stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles casually as she regarded Shiro with a doubtful expression.

“Huh? Why?” 

She thought for a moment. “I mean, he’s so quiet and smart, and he looks…,” She rolled her eyes from side to side as if tossing between words in her head. “What’s the term, Asugi?” She said, turning to him.

“Stiffer than toffee and brittle on Christmas day.” Said Asugi.

“Close enough.” Nina continued. “And you...well, you’re...you.” Nina gestured to Shiro up and down with her hand.

He frowned.

“Which isn't a bad thing!” Nina said quickly after noticing Shiro's expression. “You’re definitely easy on the eyes, Shiro but I’d be lying if I said you were quiet,...or very academically driven, and you can be a bit...what's the word?” She looked at Asugi expectantly.

“Reckless as baking without preheating your oven?” 

“Not where I was going with that.” Her face breaking into a grin.

“Crickets,” Asugi shrugged. “Thought I had it.” 

Shiro sighed. “Yeah, definitely not the right people to talk about this stuff with. I’m going to go to practice.” He dropped his unopened textbook into his gym bag and stood, hoisting it up and over his shoulder. He raised his arms over his head, letting out a deep yawn as he stretched his unused muscles.

Nina had finished packing up as well. “I’m going to the mall, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” She said. Before leaving, she stood to face Shiro squarely and grasped him by his shoulders. Her head lifted and she met his eyes with fear invoking intensity. “Shiro, please give it your all!”

He was not sure what he had expected. “O-oh will do...,” was all he could say. 

“Hold up, Nina. I’ll come with you.” Asugi said. 

“Sure, let’s go. Just don’t hold me back from my people-watching.” said Nina. “Have a good practice Shiro.” 

“Later.” Asugi added. 

They left and Shiro was alone. He dug out his water bottle from his bag, took a drink, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. From the window, he could see students on their way home or heading to their respective club activities. He lingered a while longer, hoping to catch a certain golden head bobbing amidst the crowd. Fruitless, he turned away, secured the lid and threw the bottle back into his bag. He walked out of the classroom, making his way to the field.

\---

The next two hours passed in a flash of hot sun and physical exertion. Shiro had attacked each exercise with an unyielding ferocity to the admiration of not only his teammates but his coach as well. Though he looked on appreciatively at Shiro’s enthusiasm, Benny had cancelled the usual scrimmage and forced them into conditioning to finish up practice, hoping that Shiro would burn himself out. 

It had served it’s purpose, as Shiro was too exhausted to even lift his head. He laid on the grass after the last drill, breathing heavily, basking in the sunlight. Next to him, his teammate Ignatius carefully laid down a towel before collapsing onto it next to him. He too, was breathing heavily from the last exercise. It took a moment for Shiro's breathing to steady; his chest rising and falling so heavily his back arched in rhythm. Once he was comfortable, Shiro turned to face Ignatius.

“Your dad is going to kill us one day.” He said. 

Ignatius had closed his eyes. If his breathing had not sounded so laborious Shiro would have thought he was asleep. He had flipped his long blond hair over him so that the nape of his neck was exposed to the wind, the sweat glistening and trickling down his temple. His eyes remained close as he spoke. “Shiro, I know you’re smiling.”

He laughed. “Of course! What’s better than working up a sweat after a long day in class? It was just what I needed.” He flipped onto his chest and folded his arms under his head. The grass beneath him was still soft and green, only the smallest trace of Autumn had touched them. He plucked a few shards from those gathered near his hand and cautiously, he reached over to Ignatius and lifted them under his nose. 

“Don’t even try.” He said flatly.

Shiro breathed a huff of amusement and threw the grass to the side. Taking a look at his hand, he saw that a callus had broke open and his shirt sleeve dirtied with mud and grass stains. He smiled approvingly. Shiro placed his hand back under his head and laid peacefully, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of the field that he had spent the previous two hours training in. 

After a moment, Ignatius’ breathing had returned to normal. His eyes remained closed and his hands folded on top of his stomach. 

“I was thinking about getting coffee, you wanna come?” Shiro asked him.

“Since when did you start drinking coffee?” Ignatius eyes opened in slits, turning them on Shiro quizzically. 

“Since...well you know, it’s good to try new things every now and again.” Shiro rolled to his side to face Ignatius. “Come on, let’s go. The espresso is the best.”

After an observing pause, he said, “I’ll decline thank you. Have fun visiting whoever it is.” He sat up then stood. After careful examination, he saw that no bugs had made it onto his towel. Then, Ignatius proceeded to roll it up before delicately placing it in his bag. 

Shiro chuckled. “Hey, wait for me! Let’s get out of here before Sophie forces us to stretch again.” He sat up quickly, pushing himself off the ground and followed Ignatius to get the rest of his things. 

Ignatius shuddered. “Agreed.” 

\---

Siegbert had taken the afternoon shift at the cafe, having left early from school due to the spare he had in last period. The cafe was barely filled today, Dwyer would close without much trouble. With no customers waiting to place their order, Siegbert had nothing to do but wait for Dwyer to finish the drinks while he called out names. His shift would be ending in five minutes.

“Here you go, Siegbert,” Dwyer handed him a large cup, filled to the brim with black americano. 

Siegbert thanked him, taking the drink in his hand. He couldn’t help but admire the rich black brew that Dwyer had produced, radiating a warmth from not only the hot liquid but the amount of care put into it. He turned it around in his hand to see his own printing on the cup. “No room venti americano for Niles.” He called out, placing the cup onto the counter. Niles, he assumed, gave him a slight nod in appreciation, took the cup, and walked briskly out of the cafe as another customer walked in. 

Shiro made his way inside and the room changed colour. His eyes went first to the menu boards, softening, before his gaze landed upon his own. He carried his gym bag as always, his clothing was muddied and endearingly grass stained, today opting for a red long sleeve fitted workout shirt and black running tights under his shorts. Like always, he sported the black braided headband on his forehead. Siegbert gave a quick wave and walked to the cash register where Shiro was waiting for him.

“Shiro.” He greeted.

Shiro smiled. “Hey! I thought I’d stop by and say hi. I’m glad you’re actually here - I texted you but you never answered.”

“It’s good to see you, Shiro. I usually keep my phone in the back while I’m working.” He apologized.

“Ever the model employee,” Shiro teased.

He felt himself smile foolishly. “Is there anything I can get you?” Siegbert asked.

Shiro paused before he answered. “No thanks, I’m good.” Then, “How about you? When do you finish your shift, I was hoping we can do something after.” There was a change, evident in the shift in his shoulders, a rigidness to his posture, a tightness in his chest as if his breath had been caught. 

Siegbert had only been able to stare at him. The pause had stretched out into a silence and Shiro opened his mouth to speak but Siegbert had cut him off fearing that he would withdraw his invitation; he forced the words out of his mouth. “What did you have in mind?” He heard himself say.

Shiro touched the nape of his neck. “I...haven’t thought that far yet.” He looked around, hoping an idea would come to him. 

Composure regained, Siegbert said, “there’s a movie theatre one station over. Would you be alright to watch something?” He had spoken it all in one breath. If he didn’t want this, Siegbert thought, let him tell me now. If he wants to change his mind, let it be now.

Shiro did not answer but paused and looked at him, considering, as if he had read his thoughts. Finally he said, ”perfect! That’s why I came here!” And Siegbert’s doubts washed away.

He nodded, blissful and eager. “I end in a couple minutes. Let me see if Dwyer needs anything. I’ll be right out once I retrieve my things.” 

Shiro gave a quick nod and stepped away from the till, sitting down in one of the cushioned chairs by the pick up counter. Siegbert turned to Dwyer who had been watching their exchange with mild curiosity. He leaned casually against the counter with his hands rested on the ledge. His bangs had been tied up while working, with his height, Siegbert thought he resembled a palm tree. 

“That must be nice, Siegbert,” Dwyer said. “Someone’s here to pick you up.”

Siegbert flushed. “Will you be alright on your own? My shift just ended but I could stay for a bit if you need help,” he offered.

“I’ll be fine. You know my old man always stops by when I close to inspect things right? He beat this in me so hard I can close half asleep.” Dwyer waved his hand casually. “Bye bye…have fun.”

Siegbert grinned, “Well, alright. Have a good rest of the day,” and he left to gather his things. The back room was small, the only furniture inside was their lockers. To have more than two people inside would have made it difficult to move around. He untied his apron with fumbling fingers, untying the knot behind him, and hung it in his designated locker. He took his school bag and threw it over his shoulder. Across from the lockers, Jakob had placed a mirror which he gratefully used to check his reflection. He frowned, trying to massage the redness from his face. Siegbert licked his lips then took a hand to his hair, flattening the curls, and with a final look in the mirror, stepped out and went towards Shiro who had stood as he approached.

After a brief train ride and walk, they arrived at the movie theatre where Shiro had selected a film for no other reason than that the poster had an astronaut on it. Siegbert did not mind in the slightest, only insisting that Shiro didn’t pay for his ticket. He realized promptly that he was no match for Shiro’s single mindedness. Finally, with Shiro exhibiting enough insistence that the usher looked at them uncomfortably, he allowed himself to be treated. 

They found their seats inside the theatre, opting for a spot farthest in the back. The theatre was relatively empty, being a weekday, and the movie old enough that this was the only showing for the day. Shiro had bought a drink from the concession, puncturing the lid with two straws, one for each of them. “Let’s share,” he had said and placed it between them when they took their seats inside the theatre.

Siegbert was usually one to enjoy a movie on his own. It did not make sense to need a companion when movies could be enjoyed in silence. His apprehension laid in the thought that Shiro would be the type to talk through a film; though he felt like he would not have minded Shiro’s breath in his ear, his face so close to his own. Once the lights had dimmed, and the previews had begun to roll, Shiro remained silent and ever focused on the screen. Occasionally, he would pick up the cup and take a drink before setting it back down. 

As the movie continued, a feeling of comfort set in, allowing the tightness in his shoulders to loosen, and he sunk gratefully into the cushioned seat after a long day of classes and work. Shiro seemed to react to this, slouching into his seat; he widened his legs into a more casual sitting position, his feet pointing outward, elbows resting on the armrests on either side of him. 

The feeling had come abruptly, the jump had started in his heart and caused a tightness that extended to his back, prickling his lower spine, then transferred to the inners of his thigh, which he clenched, and finally descending to his knee where Shiro’s touch had fallen. The theatre had shrunken so that it was only the two of them. The pounding in his heart muted the film. For a long, outstretched pause, neither moved. It would have been impossible for Shiro not to be aware. Daringly, Siegbert inclined his head to catch Shiro in the corner of his eye and saw that he sat with the unreserved ease belonging to a king sitting on his throne. 

He looked more intently, at the lines of muscle pulling taut at his neck and the almost lazy way in which he held his gaze, watching the actors on screen. He saw the silhouette of a finely defined adam’s apple, the broad muscles of his chest in motion as he breathed, the modest upturn of his nose. His eyes made their way back to his face, gazing at the high cheeks and his lips, full and plump even in the dim light of the theatre. He saw too, that they were upturned.

He watched Shiro reach for the cup again and turned to regard him of his expression. When their eyes met, Shiro gazed back, offering a smile and lifting an eyebrow as he took a sip. He had mouthed the word ‘what’ to Siegbert’s questioning stare to which he answered with a shake of his head, 'nothing’. He gestured the drink to him then, which he took with a smile of appreciation. When he saw Shiro turn back to face the screen, Siegbert took a drink using the straw he saw Shiro had used.

The movie had ended well past ten. Pushing past the doors of the theatre, they begun their walk back to the train station through the dimly lit sidewalk they had opted for over a busy main road half a block away. Shiro, lively, his voice clear, coloured the evening as he raved about the events of the movie. 

“That was pretty great wasn’t it, Siegbert?” Shiro said. “The main character and his daughter, saving the world, and all those crazy plot twists. It was so much fun! When we got to the end I wanted to go ‘Science’ and just slam my hand on the table!”

Siegbert laughed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Oh yeah, it was great! By the end, I was on the edge of my seat! What about you? Did you like it?”

“I thoroughly enjoyed it. The idea of time travel is truly fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Yeah yeah definitely!” Shiro agreed. “I had tons of fun! These kinds of movies really get your brain working, huh? How do people come up with this stuff? I never saw that twist coming - never expected it.”

“I didn’t expect _this_ ,” Siegbert said quietly. He had dropped his head to the ground.

“Hm? Did you say something?” Shiro said, leaning into him.

“N-no.” he lied.

“Really? Thought I heard something,” said Shiro, with a look that told him he did not quite believe it. “Oh yeah, what did you think of the last scene?” He continued and the confession was forgotten. 

They continued like that for a moment, in a conversation that barely scratched the surface of what he was feeling and thinking. Siegbert, seeing the station in the distance had panicked as it had continued. The words that left his mouth were not the ones that he wanted to say but he did not know how to start them, how to finish - he had always lacked eloquence to his words. Shiro too had noticed the station ahead of them.

“Are you taking the train?” said Shiro.

“Yes.” he told him.

“Which way?” 

“Towards Nohr. And you?”

“Hoshido. Too bad, I was hoping we could talk more.” he smiled ruefully. 

“We can talk now.” _We can talk about anything._ But he did not say it.

There was a change again, a pause in which Shiro regarded him, an understanding that had passed between them. He almost interrupted this silence but did not want his voice to cut through whatever change had occurred in those few moments. Frowning, flushing, Shiro reached his hand towards his, wrapping his fingers around the knuckles, gently. His eyes, unabashed, turned downward to look at their hands together, then drew a line back up his arm, up his chest, caressing his jaw and cheek before falling upon his eyes in a look that asked a question he had never thought he’d hear. 

The shock of a feeling so warm surprised him. He was sure too, that Shiro could feel the feverish warmth where their hands joined. Yet there was nothing in this world that would be able to pull him away. It was Shiro who finally broke the silence.

“D-Don’t say anything, okay?” He said. “This,” the pads of his fingers pressed against Siegbert’s hand lightly. “This, is alright isn’t it?”

And it was his decision, Siegbert realized. The feelings Shiro possessed made infinitely clear in his actions and he had asked this final question to him in the way he held his hand, loosely, able to pull away if he wanted. Then the image was upon him, if in another life he pulled away from Shiro’s hand, it would retreat back into the pocket of his shorts, and he would smile - painfully, then tell him it was okay; and when Siegbert looked back into his eyes they would betray his confusion and hurt.

But this was not that life. His breath shaky, he nodded then clumsily reworked their fingers so they intertwined with each other. They continued to the train station like that for some time. Each taking wordless steps in the night.

“I’m so happy,” he had heard Shiro say; but Siegbert thought himself too clumsy to speak and instead of repeating those words could only squeeze the hand he held a little tighter. The thought was humbling in a way. It had been scary for Shiro as well.

Shiro’s hand was large and warm - deep calluses embellished his palms. The wind had made them dry. His nails were cut short and the pads of his fingertips wonderfully soft, pressed against the back of his hand as they walked. His fingers gripped tightly but his palm was relaxed, barely touching. He had not been aware before but Shiro’s palm was sweating. 

“Shiro,” he began. They were approaching the station. 

“A little longer.” Was all Shiro said. He felt Shiro’s grip tighten on their fingers and there was nothing to argue.

It was only under the bright light of the station lamp that they reluctantly separated. Shiro stood in front of him, shakier than he had ever seen him. “I have a lot of fun with you.” Straightforward, with none of the unnecessary flourish that chipped away at beauty in an attempt to mould and alter it. He said and meant it all and nothing else. 

“I’m glad,” he continued. “I was thinking about it during the whole movie but I couldn’t work up the courage.” He paused for a breath of laughter and his hand went to touch the nape of his neck. “That was probably the scariest thing I’ve ever done. Then when we were walking here, I couldn’t imagine having missed this chance. I’m glad. Really, I’m so happy.” He said.

“As am I.” Siegbert said. Behind him, the Hoshido train pulled up to a stop. “Your train is here.”

Shiro shook his head. “I can wait for the next one.”

“Are you still trying to escort me?” Siegbert laughed. “It’s alright, my train will be here shortly.”

Shiro joined him in laughter. “Okay, but let’s do something tomorrow! I don’t have practice, we can spend the day together.”

“I don’t have work either. I’ll look forward to it.” Siegbert said. 

Shiro breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Yeah, sounds like a plan! Alright, I gotta get on my train now, see you tomorrow, Siegbert!” He waved quickly and jumped on the train as the doors began closing. Once inside, he turned around and faced Siegbert through the window, smiling brightly, he waved until the train pulled out of sight.

The bell for the Nohrian train sounded and he stepped on once it pulled to a stop. He took a seat so that he could stare out the window, he was grateful the compartment was virtually empty. Bringing the hand Shiro held up to his face, he pressed his lips against it as the train sped him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this chapter ended up longer than the first one OTL the following chapters will also be about this length, I've admitted defeat haha  
>  Thank you so much to those who read, kudo’d, and commented. I am overjoyed by the support of this story! I had no idea this story would even be viewed. Thank you so much for the support! Writing, especially M/M writing is a secret I keep from my friends, family, and SO so truly, thank you so so much.
> 
> Hehe can you guess what movie they went to see? I'm having a lot of fun with the characters so far, especially the ones without support conversations to draw from =]
> 
> The next chapter will be out in two weeks at the very latest.  
> I hope you continue to follow and enjoy this story. I’ll work my hardest!


	3. Chapter 3

Cursive

 

\-- Chapter Three --

 

The feelings had overflowed after that, like colours spilling onto a canvas. He never imagined the ferocity of these feelings, how they came almost abruptly but with so much force that he never knew how he lived before. He found himself grinning wider, laughing more loudly, his tongue loose and unhindered, words weaving together endlessly. There was always so much to speak about. 

How was practice, he would ask him. What are you reading, he would be asked in return. He spoke unafraid of judgement or ridicule; there was never malice hidden in his words. He would listen, gazing at grey eyes like a night storm - seeing the clouds gather, and the winds change within, knowing of the sun hidden behind them and waiting for dawn to break.

The thought had not escaped him, that he could keep Shiro to himself, clasp tightly between his hands. His friendly and open personality, paired with his handsome features hopelessly charmed all who met him. In his presence, the world felt raw in your hands, ripe as summer fruit, and bursting with sweetness. There was nothing deliberate in his actions, nothing that hinted at a desperation for acceptance. Only an unself-consciousness that other popular people never carried with them making him infinitely more captivating. It would be impossibly cruel to hide him away from the world. 

When night came, his thoughts etched every part of him into his memory, into his hand. He would lay awake, his breaths coming to him quickly, as if he had been running. Under the covers, thicker now with the cold setting in, he would place a hand between his thighs, the thoughts coming all at once. The thick, brown locks gathered in his hands, the storm inside heavy lidded grey eyes, rough hands tracing themselves along his skin, and hot breath that blew madly onto him, matching his own, setting him afire.

\---

Another week had passed when Siegbert was in the last hour of his shift at the cafe. He had arrived to work after his spare and witnessed a frantic Dwyer making drinks behind Jakob who worked as both a barista and cashier. A long line of customers waited in front of the cash register leading almost to the door Siegbert had entered from. He had to peek around shoulders and hand bags to see them at work. When Dwyer finally met his eyes, he looked genuinely relieved, even Jakob, stoic as he could be, seemed to relax his shoulders a bit after seeing him arrive. Siegbert quickly went to the back room, readied himself for work, and swiftly took over the till, letting Jakob help Dwyer on the drinks.

It took Jakob, Dwyer, and himself everything they had to complete orders that seemed never ending. Drinks needed to be made, remade, then apologized for after Jakob scolded the customer for sending it back. Their blender broke in the middle of making a smoothie and a replacement had to be dug out from the storage room. Coffee beans ran empty. Stir sticks seemed to vanish into thin air. At one point, Jakob had sent him to the convenience store down the road to buy milk. 

After the last drink had been made, they let out a unified sigh of relief, each retreating to a separate corner behind the counter to gather themselves. Siegbert went closest to the windows, next to the bagged coffee beans where he leaned heavily on his elbows. His knees threatened to buckle beneath him if not for the counter he found himself leaning against. He lifted his head, the college student regular sat at a small table with his laptop opened in front of him. He had been watching them work. With a small nod and a look of amusement, the student lifted the cup to him as if to say thank you, tucking pieces of maroon hair behind his ear. Siegbert smiled lightly back at him. Searching through his memory, he placed a name to a face - Subaki, he remembered from writing his name on the cup, soy green tea latte.

Beside him, Dwyer spoke. His voice raspy and worn like he has fought a war where the lines had broken. “Is that the last of them?” He said between breaths. 

Siegbert turned to him and nodded silently, saving his voice. For the first time since his shift had begun, there were no customers waiting in line to place an order. Though most of the tables were occupied, the cafe had quieted considerably. Indistinct chatter settled into the background and forgotten music resurfaced. Some kind of upbeat pop song by a singer Siegbert was not familiar with.

“Pick yourself up, Dwyer. That posture is inexcusable,” said Jakob, who had been standing by the pastries. He reached over and gave a hard open handed clap to Dwyer’s back. Jakob himself looked as worn as Siegbert had ever seen him. A fine sheet of sweat covered his face and pieces of silver fringe stuck to his forehead. His ponytail fell loosely behind his back, strands escaping the loosened knot that held it together. Wisely, Siegbert said nothing of this. 

“Come on, I’m tired. Let me slouch a little…,” Dwyer said, “or better yet, let me take a nap at the back.” If Siegbert were asked to put Jakob’s mood into words, vicious would not have done it justice. He regarded Dwyer in petrified amazement. 

“Absolutely not.” Jakob said, curtly. “Time to restock. We must always be prepared in case our services are needed.” The words seemed as if they had taken a considerable amount of effort to force out. 

“Right now? After all that?” Dwyer spat. 

“Silence. You dare sputter that cheeky nonsense to me?” Brows raising like he dared him to. “I should not have to remind you who is in charge here.” From the front pocket of his apron, Jakob pulled out a white handkerchief and brought it to his face, dabbing at his forehead and upper lip.

“See? Admit it. You’re tired too.” Dwyer shot back. “How about we close for the day? Tell everyone to leave then go home and take a long nap.” He turned his back to Jakob, putting his weight on his hands placed on the counter. Siegbert watched him warily, afraid he might topple over beside him.

“To think, my own son would come up with something so ridiculous.” He grabbed Dwyer by the arm forcefully. Jakob lifted him up easily pulling Dwyer's heavy body to his feet. “As punishment, you will complete closing tonight. Restocking everything and doing the inventory. I’ll be waiting at home. I don’t expect you to be back early.”

“You expect me to do all that work?”

Jakob ran his hands along his ponytail, flattening the stray hairs, and tightening the knot. “Absolutely. This is training. Listen. Back during my training days I had ten, no, a hundred times worse than this from that old man.”

“Like Gunther gave you such an insane amount of work.” Dwyer said, sourly.

“He might seem nice now but he was ruthless back in my day. Be grateful you have me over him.” He turned his back to them in dismissal. “Do not come back early.” He repeated. Siegbert and Dwyer watched as he vanished out the door.

“All because that woman liked my coffee better,” Dwyer muttered. “You’re the worst…”

“The worst what?” 

Shiro stood on the other side of the counter in front of the cash register having just entered. He greeted them happily then after seeing their expressions, frowned. “What’s with you guys? You look awful!” 

Siegbert snuck a glance at Dwyer, dark circles under his eyes , hair even more bedraggled than usual. He could only imagine what he looked like himself. “Hello Shiro,” he said. “You’re finished practice already?”

“Yeah, I’m done.” He said simply. Shiro turned to Dwyer with interest.

He realized he had never properly introduced them. “Dwyer,” Siegbert began. “This is Shiro. Shiro, Dwyer.”

“Nice to meet you.” said Shiro, moving closer to the counter that divided them.

“Is it?” Dwyer muttered.

“Jeez...what’s eating you?” The weight of his body leaned back onto his heels. 

“Please excuse him, Shiro. We had a rather strenuous shift before you came. Then Jakob left all the restocking duties to Dwyer.” Siegbert explained. He looked ruefully at Dwyer who jutted out his lip in a pout.

“Woah, that sucks! What’d you do to piss him off?” Shiro asked, pointedly looking at Dwyer.

Perhaps Dwyer thought he asked to mock him. He eyed Shiro in a speculating look before answering. “...I got mouthy.” He said finally. 

Shiro laughed. “Happens to all of us! Word of advice, try not to direct it at your boss.”

“He’s also my old man.” Dwyer said dryly. The corner of his lips pinched together like he had realized the foolishness of his actions. 

“Even worse!” Shiro laughed again, placing a hand on his hip. “You sure know how to pick your battles.”

The look on Dwyer’s face spoke to his amusement of Shiro’s honesty - and complete tactlessness. He regarded Shiro a little differently, shoulders at ease when before they were rigid. 

Once Shiro stopped laughing he said, “well, if you need help, I’d be up for it.” He looked at both of them, “what do you need?” 

“Really?” said Dwyer. He thought for a moment. “Thanks...ah well, you look pretty strong.” He studied Shiro in a long, calculating sweep from his head to where the counter hide his torso. “Think you can bring some boxes out from the back? I’ll write them out for you so you don’t have to remember all of them.” Dwyer pulled out the drawer underneath the cash register, digging through papers and old receipts as he searched for pen and paper. 

“Oh, sure, that would help.” Shiro leaned over the edge of the counter, peering into the drawer, and watched Dwyer’s hands sift around the mess inside. Dwyer’s eyes narrowed into slits and Shiro instinctively backed away with a rather clumsy smile. 

To Siegbert, Dwyer said, “you really know some interesting people.” He fished out a sticky note pad and pen and wrote out the list of boxes before handing it to Shiro. “Here you go…and...nice to meet you too.” Scarcely won over.

Shiro grinned. “Got it, thanks. Let’s get to it.” He warmed up his shoulder, rolling it in small circles, pinching the muscles between his fingers. “You two take it easy here first, I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Are you sure?” said Siegbert. “You just had practice.”

“Oh yeah, I’m good.” He paused to study him then said, “are you looking out for me?” Beaming.

Siegbert grinned, the heat rising to his cheeks. “Yes, in a way.” Quietly. 

His eyes were a storm flecked with sunrays. “This’ll be nothing.” He left offering one more smile to Siegbert, holding the list in his hand. 

Beside him, Dwyer filled a cup with water from the tap. He held it out to Siegbert and said, “I’m grateful to him for helping us out but…,” he paused unsure whether to continue. “Does he,” he began again, “does he always look like that when he stops by?” 

They turned, hearing the door to the storage room swing open as if it had been kicked. Shiro emerged from the back room, four large boxes held in his hands, his chin resting on the one on top. He placed the boxes on the floor near them, gently, bending at the knees to save his back. Shiro clapped his hand together after standing upright, looked at the list again and went back inside. 

Siegbert’s eyes had never left Shiro. “What do you mean?” He said, taking the cup from him.

Dwyer looked back at him wearing an expression of amazement. “What do you mean.” He repeated. After a pause, it turned into one of distaste. “He looks like he rolled in mud then went back and bathed in it; and don’t even get me started on the smell. Tell him...to wear some clean clothes before coming here. Just looking at him makes me want to do laundry.” He lifted a cup to his lips, like trying to wash an unpleasant taste from his mouth.

Siegbert stared at him, blank faced for an outstretched moment, suppressing lips that threatened to curve until Dwyer turned away from him awkwardly. “I’ll let him know.” Siegbert said.

From behind him, another kick and Shiro returned carrying the last of the boxes. Siegbert, with Dwyer following behind him, stepped out from the other side of the counter to begin organizing them. The coffee beans, cups, lids, everything had to be added and counted. Siegbert went to look over the inventory leaving Shiro with Dwyer, restocking the shelves under Dwyer’s instructions. 

After finishing with the inventory, he wet a cloth to wipe the tables down when Shiro came back from a trip to the recycling. As he came closer, Siegbert felt a hand placed on the small of his back, the touch like summer rain where it lay. Shiro pressed his body into his, cupping Siegbert’s back into his chest. He felt his heart beating as his lips brushed his ear, leaning in to speak. The words rushed together, spoken in a murmur - almost carelessly, though he knew it was not so. “Good work today.” His hand lingered a bit longer and like nothing happened, he went to Dwyer asking what the next job was, leaving Siegbert with the heat of his heart beat imprinted on his back.

The cafe closed at nine, the last of the customers trickling out in the minutes before. They finished the remaining tasks, closing well past nine, almost ten, until they were certain even Jakob could not find something to critique. Dwyer thanked them as they packed up their things to leave. “I’ll stay and sleep here, I think. Remember what my old man said? Can’t let him know I got help and finished this early.” Then when Siegbert offered to stay, “I’ll be fine. I leave a pillow and a blanket in my locker.” He shooed them away. “Good night.” He said. Dwyer went to the back, presumably to grab his things but poked his head out after a moment. “Can you guys lock the front door? Thanks.” He went back inside with no intention of checking whether they would actually do so, the door swinging shut behind him. Shiro and Siegbert did as he requested before leaving for the train station.

The sky had grown considerably dark, the days shortening along with the cooling weather. Siegbert had his jacket buttoned up all the way, a scarf tucked inside to protect his neck from the cold. Shiro threw on a hoodie before stepping out of the cafe, the bottom smudged with dirt and half a shoe print. He must have thrown it to the ground sometime during practice. Siegbert warmed his hands with the heat packs he had placed in his jacket pockets, squeezing them between his fingers. He held one out to Shiro who had his hands stuffed in the pouch of his hoodie. 

“Would you like to use one?” 

Shiro shook his head.

“Why not? They’re warm.” He offered again.

Shiro turned to him, offering his most innocent smile. “Aren’t we going to hold hands?” He held out his palm in front of him.

Siegbert smiled and returned the heat pack back to his pocket. He reached out and fitted his palm into Shiro’s. 

“I’m sure gonna miss the warm weather.” Shiro said. His head lifted to look at the sky. Shiro untucked his thumb from under Siegbert’s as they walked; He had a habit of brushing his thumb on the back of his hand, the strokes coming steadily, the grooves and dips of Siegbert’s hands already etched in his memory.

After a silence, Siegbert said, “I forgot to mention this earlier but I am picking up my cousin tomorrow in place of my uncle.” 

“Cousin?” He said, curiously. The strokes of his thumb steady in their rhythm.

He nodded. “Yes, he goes to I.F. Private Middle school so I’ll be stopped by there after school.”

His thumb stopped on top of his fingernail. “That’s Kiragi’s school!”

“Kiragi?”

“My cousin.” Shiro said. “I haven’t seen the little squirt in ages! Mind if I tag along?”

“Of course not,” said Siegbert.

“Perfect!” His thumb worked it’s way to his wrist, softly tracing over veins.

“You don’t have practice?” He spoke a little too quickly.

Shiro shook his head before answering, mouth twisting. “Benny’s giving us a day off to rest.” A line drew itself on his forehead.

“You’re not tired.” Siegbert said. He looked at Shiro, the moonless sky powerlessly trying to hide his features from him. He remembered well the soft lines of his face, his eyes caressing each curve hidden in the darkness, filling it in with his memory. Familiar. Impossible to forget.

“We have a match coming up.” The line deepened. He could not contain the strain in his voice. Each word cutting off abruptly, pulling taut so that he did not give something away.

He looked at him, considering what to say but could not find the words. He could not bring himself to pry. Finally, “Can I watch you play?”

Shiro stopped, pulling Siegbert back with him by the hand he held in his own. He met his eyes with a toss of disheveled brown hair. It was deeper without the light, like burnt wood instead of the toasted bronze he was used to. “Really? I thought you’d be busy with winter exams.” He searched his eyes looking for a sign of reluctance and when he found none, his eyes dug deeper into Siegbert’s filled with comfort. “Could you? I mean, you’re offering right? I’d love for you to watch me play.” 

Siegbert flushed. His heart blissful from the sweetness of his expression. He gazed back in his eyes. The grey so striking even in the darkness, he thought he should have felt fear but could not find it. He was left with only wonder and certainty of their place next to each other. Shiro dipped his eyes to where his hand held Siegbert’s, running coarse fingers between the knuckles of Siegbert’s pale hand. Shiro opened his mouth as if to say something but only breathed deeply and returned his gaze to Siegbert’s. They shone even more brightly now. Marble instead of grey. 

Their feet landed on the cement platform of the train station. Siegbert saw the lights of the Nohrian train pulling up to the station and they separated their hands. They did so slowly now, the night too long to hide their reluctance. He was about to turn to watch the train pull to a stop when Shiro stepped into him, chests grazing as they inhaled in unison. Shiro’s hand lifted to his face, holding his gaze gently. Siegbert stood completely still, admiring Shiro who regarded him as the pads of his fingers felt the hollow underneath his eyes, stroked the roundness of his cheek. He took his thumb and drew a line down the side of his cheek, over his lips so that they separated. He inhaled sharply, breathing in his scent.

A light shone on Shiro’s face as the Nohrian train pulled up to a stop. It rested behind them now, but Shiro did not drop his hand and instead brought Siegbert’s face closer to his own. His nose grazed the point of his chin and Shiro looked up meeting his eyes to Siegbert’s. They softened, lids dipping low, then he gently led Siegbert’s head down so that their foreheads pressed against each other. It would be impossible for Shiro not to notice the heat radiating from where their skin touched, hear the beating of his heart in his chest, the quivering of his lips. Siegbert could see that Shiro closed his eyes, his hand stroking his hair until they rested on the warm nape of neck, intertwined with his curls.

“Good night.” Shiro said. Siegbert could feel his breath as he spoke, the parting of his lips as he formed the words. Shiro pulled away from him, opening his eyes. Siegbert’s feet carried him onto the train and into a seat by the window though he could not say how they did so. The train began pulling away and he forced control back to his body to look at him but Shiro had already turned around to face the approaching Hoshido train. Siegbert hoped he would turn back but he did not and the trained pulled him away until he was out of sight. He relished in the fact that there was tomorrow, and if Shiro wanted as he so very much did, in all the days to come after. 

\---

It had been decided that they would wait by the school gate after classes the next day. He arrived promptly, packing up his things with less care than usual. His feet carried him more quickly than he would like to admit. Across the field, his eyes drew themselves to Shiro, who ran to him, pulling Asugi along by his arm. 

“Yo Siegbert!” he greeted when within earshot. Shiro stopped in front of him, releasing Asugi’s arm without a glance. His breathing barely elevated though he had come running straight from the school entrance. Shiro tilted his head and reached a hand to touch the part of his hair that had turned hot from sunlight. 

“Shiro! There are people here.” Siegbert said but he did not swat his hand away.

He chuckled then dropped his hand to his side. “You’re so shy.” 

“Shiro!” Asugi said, causing them to turn to him. “You nearly pulled my arm off!” 

“Sorry!”

“Are you?” Grudgingly.

“Will you be joining us today, Asugi?” Siegbert asked. 

“Only to the school. Don’t want to interrupt your little date.” He said, massaging the arm Shiro had pulled him with.

“Oh, I see.” Siegbert said. He hoped his voice did not betray his happiness. He saw Shiro smile a little.

“Well, let’s go.” He said.

The three walked down the path to the train station. The middle school was a couple stops over, requiring them to take the Hoshido line. Siegbert recalled the message he had received from his Uncle Leo, speaking of a conference he had to attend held in the next prefecture. The email had asked him to walk Forrest home where he would be cared for by their maid. He wondered if his father would be at the conference as well.

“So Lemon,” Asugi said, interrupting his thoughts, “how’d you get this guy to pass that midterm? You know he hasn’t passed anything since then right?” The childish jab made obvious by the way he watched Shiro’s expression as he spoke. Clearly, he was not over Shiro almost pulling his arm out of its socket.

“Asugi!” Shiro said.

“That won’t do, Shiro,” said Siegbert. 

“Hey!” He spoke to Asugi. “I didn’t bring you along so you can rat me out like that. I totally aced that midterm, I’m set until the final...probably.”

“I can’t believe you think a 62 is an A.”

“Oh yeah, what’d you get, genius?”

“94.” He said, cheerfully.

Shiro clicked his tongue. “Should’ve known not to ask.”

“If your marks are so high,” Siegbert prompted. “Why are you not in the college prep classes? You would surely excel in that environment.” His mark was only four points higher than that of Asugi’s.

“I don’t really care for that kind of thing. My dad just wants me to graduate, he says I can do whatever I want afterwards.”

“What would you like to do?”

He paused only briefly. “I want to open up a bakery.” 

“You bake?”

“Sure do.” 

“That’s quite impressive.” 

“What? Baking?” Asugi said.

“Well, yes.” Siegbert had never tried it himself but it seemed quite intricate. “But also how you’re thinking of doing something on your own. I think, most people would be too scared to do so.”

“What would you do?” Asugi asked him, in a different voice.

“I think...I would act as most people.” Siegbert admitted. “That’s why I think you’re so impressive.”

Asugi smiled and turned back to face the road ahead of them. “You’re alright, Lemon.” He kicked a pebble near his foot.

The school was a short walk from the train station they got off from. The distance was about one block, students in their uniform passed by them, already on their way home. A crossing guard sat in a chair at the intersection, waiting for students to assist across the road. While on their way, Asugi had popped into a convenience store, emerging with a bag of candy which he promptly dug into. He offered them some but they both declined. Siegbert could smell the sweetness from where he stood. The headache he would get from eating one was not difficult to imagine. 

They turned the corner to wait by the gate, filled with huddled groups of students gathered in the open field with friends or waiting for a guardian to pick them up. Siegbert easily spotted Forrest in the crowd, his blond curls contrasted splendidly against the uniform. Siegbert still had his somewhere in storage, a navy blazer with a white dress shirt and black tie paired with matching dress pants and a belt. Forrest, he imagined, looked much he did when he was younger. Except that he had switched the dress pants for a skirt. 

Beside Forrest, a smaller boy hung by his side. Siegbert could not imagine his parents letting him leave the house in the way he was dressed. His tie had somehow been misplaced, the blazer buttons mismatched, and his dress pants bore a hole in the knee. Though covered in dirt, he smiled brightly, with a familiar look of unself-consciousness. The boy was the first to notice them standing by the gate. 

“Shiro!” He yelled, racing over to them. Forrest, with his back turned, spun around to chase after him. As he followed, he saw Siegbert and smiled happily as he ran.

“Yo what’s up little man?” Shiro said. He lifted Kiragi up in the air, easily over his head as if he weighed nothing. Forrest stopped in front of Siegbert.

“Hello Siegbert.” He said, small hands flattening out his skirt.

“Hi Forrest.” He said warmly. “Do you two know each other?” Siegbert gestured to Kiragi who Shiro had set down on the ground beside him. 

“Yes, Kiragi’s a year below me.”

“How did you meet then?”

Forrest scrunched his nose. “Just look at what he’s wearing! So much potential wasted…” 

He opened his mouth, about to scold him for his rudeness but Kiragi’s snicker had him stop. “I’ll admit they’ve seen better days.” Kiragi said. He lifted his knee, pointing to the hole, hopping. “This one’s from today.” Kiragi looked positively pleased with himself. Looking to Shiro he said, “Forrest and I wanna play so he’s coming over. Shiro, you and your friends should come too. What do you say?”

“Not too sure how Uncle Takumi would feel about that,” Shiro said doubtfully. “Would he be good with all of us coming over?”

“Probably,” with a shrug. “Dad’s not going to be home today.”

“He left you alone?”

“Sure, why not? You live next door.”

“Well?” Shiro raised an eyebrow to Siegbert and waited.

“What’s this about a play date?” Siegbert asked Forrest. He could not imagine what they have in common.

“Kiragi said he had a bunch of fabrics at his house, things they don’t have in Nohr. I want to see them for myself.” Forrest explained. 

“Is he your brother, Forrest?” Kiragi said. It was a commonly heard question between the two of them. They looked so much alike, as far as cousins go, with their hair matched perfectly in hue.

“No, my cousin.” Forrest told him. “Is that alright, Siegbert?”

“Sounds good to me,” added Shiro, gazing at him.

“Well, if it’s fine with his guardian.” Siegbert said gazing back. “Please allow us to intrude.”

“Alright!” Kiragi beamed at Forrest. “What about you, mister?” He turned to Asugi.

Asugi frowned. “Mister? I’m not that much older than you and Goldilocks there, Pipsqueak. I’m just here for - oh there she is! Gods...what does she keep in her backpack.” He dashed forward to a small green haired girl, her backpack, comically large on her small frame. 

“Asugi!” she called after seeing him. Her eyes wide and brilliantly purple. The pigtails on her head bounced on her shoulders as she walked forward to meet him halfway.

“What’s up, Doc?” Asugi took the backpack from her, slipping it off her shoulders and over his own. Siegbert could see the muscles in his arms straining as he lifted it. “Gods, Midori what do you have in here?” Asugi grunted.

“Just the necessities.” Midori said, so innocently that Siegbert could not help but believe her. She peeked around Asugi to see the four of them following behind him. “What are all these people doing here? Are they going to the birthday party too?”

“As if.” Asugi snorted. 

“What birthday party?” Shiro asked her.

Her head lifted and colour flushed her cheeks when she saw his face. Shiro squatted to her eye level, waiting patiently for her to speak. Asugi rolled his eyes. “Our dads’ birthday party.” She said, looking at her feet. She deliberately looked at Asugi as she spoke. “Are they friends of yours?”

“Sure.” He said.

“Nice to meet you all.” She said with one sweeping gaze over them. Again, she flushed as her eyes passed Shiro.

“Siblings?” Siegbert decided to ask.

“Cousins. Our dads are twins." Asugi said. “Their birthday always turns into a thing.” 

“Did you get the present, Asugi?” Midori said.

“Picked it up last week. Did you get a card?”

“I got two!”

“That a girl. Mind if I add my name to them?”

She giggled. “Of course not! I thought this would happen. What about the cake?”

“Sitting pretty back at my place.” A grin on his face.

“Yay! I think we did a pretty good job this year!” She flashed an adorable smile, high-fiving him. He raised his hand, teasingly forcing to her to balance on her toes. 

“Can’t be worse than last year.” 

“What happened last year?” asked Kiragi. He had been watching their exchange, an eager audience.

“No.” 

“Oh come on, it’s already in the past.” added Shiro.

“No.” Flatly.

“Midori?” 

“Sorry…,” she said, flushing again.

Asugi flipped out his phone to check the time. “Anyways, we still gotta set up so we’re going to head out. Let’s hustle, Doc.” He slipped the phone back in his pocket and held out his hand to her.

“Okay Asugi!” She took hold of it then turned around to wave at them. “Bye, it was nice meeting all of you.”

“You should come too next time, Midori.” Kiragi said boldly. 

Her eyes flickered to Shiro and she nodded, flushing. “Okay, next time! Bye!” She said again, tugging Asugi behind her. He could only move so fast carrying her backpack. 

“We should go too.” Shiro told him. “I need to get dinner started.”

“You cook?”

“Nothing fancy.” He shrugged. He let out a breath of laughter and gently placed his fingertips under his chin, lifting up so that he closed his mouth. Siegbert did not realize he had been gaping like a fish.

“Well, are we going or not?” said Kiragi who had been watching him. Beside him, Forrest eyed them suspiciously. 

“Huh? Oh yeah, let’s go.” said Shiro. “Lead the way, little man.” Kiragi bounded ahead of them, pulling Forrest by the hand. 

“Should we do that too?” said Shiro.

Siegbert flushed and he laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through my draft I realized what I had planned would end up being way too long for a single chapter (~30 pages) so I split it up in two and I’m really happy with the way this one turned out. The next chapter has the scene I first imagined when I was inspired to write this story - I hope everyone enjoys it when I finish writing it.  
> Thank you as always to those who commented, kudo’d, and clicked on this story. It’s a bit embarrassing but I found out you can subscribe to things on ao3 this week so thank you to those who have subscribed as well! I wouldn’t be writing so consistently if it wasn’t for all of you so thank you, thank you, and thank you again. See you in two weeks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rating has been updated.

Cursive 

 

\-- Chapter Four --

 

The train ride would take them nearly an hour from the middle school station. With Kiragi and Forrest leading the way, they boarded the train, settling themselves in for a long ride to the last stop of the Hoshido line. His seat was closest to the window and Shiro sat next to him, enjoying a comfortable silence in the background of Forrest and Kiragi’s chatter. 

Siegbert typed out an email to Forrest’s maid explaining to her the situation over his phone. He slipped it back into his bag after he was finished and turned his eyes to Shiro who was looking out the window behind him. He looked completely at ease, reclining comfortably into the seat, his arms crossed over his chest, and gym bag on the floor held in place by his feet. His eyes flickered to Siegbert and he smiled, then lifted his chin towards the window.

The train began to slow, pulling to a stop at the next station. The crawl to the stop treating them to the passing Hoshidan scenery. Autumn had settled in comfortably, decorating the wooden Hoshidan stalls and small businesses with the remaining warmth of the day. The colours blending beautifully together as if painted by an artist with a delicate hand and an attentive eye. Hoshido was always known for its serenity. 

“Did you see that flower shop we just passed?” Shiro asked from beside him. 

He had and he nodded, keeping his eyes on the window. The flower shop was already out of view, replaced by a fortune teller stand and a sweets shop. Siegbert felt the brush of Shiro’s cardigan against his arm as Shiro pressed his body into his. His neck grew embarrassingly hot as Shiro rested his chin into the dip of his shoulder, cheeks touching where they protruded. The skin felt rough and warm against his own.

“My aunt owns that,” he said, and Siegbert could feel his cheek lift as he spoke. “Says it’s her second favourite place after the hospital she works at. It’s pretty nice inside, though I don’t know much about flowers.” He said nothing for a moment then yawned lazily. “I’m gonna sneak in a nap.”

“Alright, sleep well,” Siegbert said. He expected Shiro to shift back onto his side of the seat but he lowered his head and rested his cheek on Siegbert’s shoulder to his surprise. His eyes closed, and his breaths came evenly, the arms he had crossed slackened. With his eyes downturned, Siegbert watched as Shiro slept, seeing unfamiliar dark circles and brows that pulled together even in rest. He felt Kiragi’s eyes on him and he flickered his gaze away like he had regarded Shiro only in passing, back to the window for the rest of the ride. 

The walk to Kiragi’s house required a steep climb up the top of a hill. The area itself was nested with forest, hiding a singular narrow path made of dirt and stone, easily missed if one did not intend to find it. At the end of the path sat four houses, each uniquely exquisite, and at the center stood a large statue of a woman looking down as if in prayer. Siegbert heard a small gasp as Forrest took in the sight before them and Kiragi turned to face him, beaming proudly. 

“That’s my grandmother.” Shiro said, seeing Siegbert’s eyes lingering on the statue. Then he pointed to the house behind it, “and that would be my house.” 

To merely call it a house seemed like a drastic misinterpretation of what stood before him - it was a palace, poised with a regality befitting that of a king. The vibrant red beams and wood of the exterior blended together with the tinged orange of the surrounding Autumn trees. The roof was shingled a deep grey and the corners, elegantly and intricately designed. It was clearly the biggest and most impressive of the four in front of them. Kiragi led them to the house on it’s right, slightly smaller but similarly designed. The beams and walls were white and the roof, shingled blue that did not stand in contrast but as compliment to the red in perfect solidarity.

“Our parents really like the traditional style,” he said with his hand at the nape of his neck. He smiled too in a beautifully sheepish way that spoke clearly of his fondness for it as well. “I like my Uncle Takumi’s house. The blue reminds me of my grandfather.” He raised his voice to Kiragi who had already went ahead of them with Forrest. “Hey Kiragi, I’m gonna drop off my stuff back in my place. Why don’t you give these two a tour in the meantime?”

“No problemo,” Kiragi said and he jogged back to grab Siegbert's hand, pulling him along. “Let’s go, Siegbert. I got some really great stuff to show you! Stuff I betcha never seen!” He had a surprisingly strong grip for someone so small. Catching up to where Forrest waited for them, Kiragi released his hand and leaned in close to Forrest and said, “I’ll show you my super secret hideout later, okay?” Siegbert, smiling a little, followed a step behind them as Kiragi led them through the front door and into the house after inputting the security code.

“You have to take off your shoes here,” he said. He kicked off his own, leaving them carelessly separated from each other. Forrest and Siegbert removed their shoes, placing them to the side and stepped out from the foyer with their socked feet. The wooden planks beneath them were finely polished and warm to the touch. 

Kiragi turned to face them, obviously enjoying the thought of playing tour guide. “Okay, first off, to your right,” and he turned his back to them raising both his hands in an ‘L’ shape. “I mean your left, is our home theatre. Here we watch tv and...do all that other fun stuff if we can’t go outside. Behold!” He slid open the door, framed by wood and divided into grids looking much like the walls, and walked into a simply furnished room with a flat screen mounted on the wall and a four seat white couch facing it. A large wooden coffee table was placed between the television and the couch, on top of a thick, well crafted rug. 

“What is this flooring, Kiragi?” Forrest asked. He lifted a frilled sock covered foot off the wooden mats they stood on. “Surely this is not carpet.”

“Nope, it’s called tatami mat,” Kiragi said. “They’re just wooden mats we lay out on the floor but it’s why we have to take our shoes off when we come inside. Keeps the house warm, you know? Did I ever tell you of the time I accidentally forgot and ripped one open right in the middle? I got in so much trouble, couldn’t go outside for a week!”

“What could you have possibly been doing to accomplish that? They look finely stitched together to me,” said Forrest. 

Siegbert thought he heard Kiragi mumble something about a bear then in a clearer voice he said, “nevermind that,” and he pushed both of them out of the home theatre. “Okay, and moving on!” 

Siegbert and Forrest followed Kiragi as he led them deeper into his home. He slid another door open, leading them to a porch that extended the sides of the house. The porch lined the perimeter of a small square garden filled with flowers surrounding a small pond which sat in the middle. A single barely leaved tree was planted to the side, shading a small area of the pond. 

He skipped a few doors, shoji, Kiragi had told them, until he came to the one for his room. “I don’t really spend a lot of time in here but there is one cool part I can show you.” 

He led them inside, stepping carelessly over clothing and toys thrown hazardously on the floor. The bed was unmade, the sheets balled up in a corner and half hanging off the bed. On the other side of the room, Kiragi slid open another door and greeted them with a large breathtaking garden so beautiful Siegbert thought he had stepped into a painting. Each area of the garden looked meticulously designed, a stone path weaved between each individual area. A large pond graced the back corner, surrounded by carefully arranged rocks and plant life and his eyes caught on a small sand covered area containing only rocks. On the sand, there were carefully marked designs drawn intricately like crop circles between them. A tall tree sat in the far corner, and above rested a tree house, half hidden by the branches and leaves. A super secret hideout, he had overheard Kiragi mention earlier.

“Pretty awesome right?” Kiragi said, cheerfully. “I spend most of my time outside. The best part? The garden opens up to the forest behind our house so sometimes we see animals here. I saw a couple foxes before! They were so cool just playing around right in front of us!” He clapped his hands together. “Alright, last stop is the training room. This way.” 

They walked out onto the patio and into the room adjacent to Kiragi’s. It was the largest room they have seen so far but it was mostly bare except for a few benches on the side and an altar sculpted from wood at the front. Above the altar hung a wall scroll with the image of two dragons clashing above a Hoshidan style city. On the altar, in place of a sword, rested the most majestic archer’s bow Siegbert had ever seen. 

“This is our training room!” Kiragi said. “Dad and I practice archery and swordsmanship here.” He paused and saw their eyes trained on the bow. “That’s my dad’s and one day my Fujin Yumi. Isn’t it a beauty? Can’t let you touch it though. But look all you want!”

Siegbert didn’t need Kiragi to tell him so. The bow was so beautiful he did not feel worthy to even stand too close to it. 

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here, Kiragi?” He asked. Siegbert studied the bow from afar, it was skillfully crafted, but looked heavy and finicky. An immeasurable amount of skill must be needed to use such an elegant weapon and he found himself looking at Kiragi in a different light.

“Well, I figured it’d be okay if it was you two. Forrest is my pal and Shiro seems to like you, Siegbert. So you’re okay in my books. You know, I bet Shiro already let himself in. We should check the kitchen.”

\---

As Kiragi had predicted, Shiro was there, digging through the fridge to help himself to a bottle of water. Siegbert was struck with a single heart beat in his chest from the sight of Shiro before him, dressed sparingly in a black tank top and loose white shorts with the drawstrings undone. 

“Oh welcome back. How was the tour? Did you show them Fujin Yumi, Kiragi?” Shiro closed the refrigerator door with his elbow. Siegbert’s eyes traced over the muscles in his arms as he moved. 

“How’d you guess?” Kiragi said.

“Call it a hunch. You should probably change out of your uniform. I’m going to get dinner started.” Shiro stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts. The downward motion pulled them down slightly, exposing a thin white strip of his underwear. 

“Sure thing. Back in a sec.” Kiragi took off running to his room. “I can't wait to get this stuffy thing off.”

“What are you going to make, Shiro?” Forrest asked. He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and flattened his skirt before sitting.

“Not sure yet. Have to take a better look in the fridge first. Water?” He filled up a couple glasses for them from the dispenser on the fridge.

“Thank you,” said Forrest, taking one of them. “So how did you two meet? Are you in the same class?”

Shiro laughed out loud like Forrest had said something ridiculous. “No way! I stopped by the cafe he works at after rugby and begged him to tutor me.” 

Siegbert smiled, remembering it fondly. It felt like ages ago since that day. 

True to his word, Kiragi flew back into the kitchen having changed into a loose t-shirt and shorts. Both blue though not the same shade. “Okay back. What are we eating tonight, Shiro?”

“Surprise,” he answered. He leaned on his elbows, bringing his chest down to the kitchen counter. The black tank top exposed the firm muscles of his chest. Siegbert forced his eyes away courteously. 

“‘Kay well I’m sure if you make it it’ll be good." He looked at Forrest eagerly. "I wanna show you something.” 

“Alright. I was wondering...when you’d be willing to show me those fabrics you mentioned.” Forrest said.

“You wanna see them now?” Kiragi pouted. “What about the hideout?” Messy hair and downturned eyes, if Shiro could manage to look like a dog then Kiragi resembled a puppy.

Siegbert noticed a slight twist in Forrest’s mouth, but he ceased to argue. “Fine, alright. Afterwards, we do what I want to do.” Siegbert pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile and looked to Shiro who wore a similar expression.

“Fine fine. But after. The clothes are really formal, really stiff. No way you can get anywhere fun in those,” Kiragi said, scrunching up his face. Forrest smiled and followed him out the door with a quick wave to Siegbert.

“Aren’t you cold?” Siegbert asked Shiro once they were gone.

He shook his head. “My body tends to run warm.” Shiro said simply. He set his water bottle down and went back to looking in the fridge. He bent his body forward, holding the door open with one arm and searching through the items with the other. Siegbert watched the defined muscles in his shoulders as he moved. Without Shiro’s usually loose fitted clothing, he was able to see the way his broad shoulders tapered down into a trim waist. The dropped armholes of his tank top displayed the cutting muscles of his sides.

“Hey, chicken!” He said abruptly, causing Siegbert to startle. He pulled it out of the fridge and placed in onto the counter before turning to look back inside. “Now let’s see, what else have we got here…,” Shiro took one more sweeping look inside the fridge and closed it, going to the cupboards and removing a pot, spices, and a knife from the drawer below. “Time to tear up this kitchen. I’m gonna make something delicious!”

Siegbert breathed a huff of amusement. “You’ve done this a lot?”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” Shiro chuckled. 

He watched, standing awkwardly as Shiro finished the soup and let it simmer on the stove. Then, Shiro took the knife in his hand, skillfully moving it along the muscles and tendons of the chicken. 

“Can I be of any help?” Siegbert said, a little guilty at his uselessness.

“Sure, am I boring you already?” He teased. “How about starting on the rice?”

Siegbert nodded, and looked around the kitchen. “Where is the…”

“The rice cooker’s sitting over there and the rice is in the pantry.”

“Of course, thank you.” He looked at the line of appliances where Shiro had gestured. Only one of them looked like they could be a rice cooker. He went to the pantry and found a large bag of rice standing upright on the ground. Siegbert looked inside the bag and saw the grains were small and hard. He frowned.

“Shiro?” 

“Yeah?” 

“How much rice do we need?”

Shiro did not answer right away, considering. “Kiragi and I tend to eat a lot so about half of the pot for us and how ever much you think you and Forrest are gonna have. It’s okay to have left overs.”

“I understand. Thank you.” Siegbert scooped rice into the pot, filling it slightly short of full and placed it inside the rice cooker. He closed the lid and searched the surface of the machine for instructions. Behind him, he heard the oven door shut.

“Siegbert?” Shiro walked over beside him and opened the lid, peering inside.

“Yes?” Nervously.

“We have to wash the rice first.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry!” Siegbert said, flushing. He hurriedly opened the lid, taking out the pot with shaking fingers.

“Don’t worry about it. Here, I can wash it. Oh, but let’s take some of the grains out first, they expand when they cook.” Shiro dumped almost half of the rice back into the bag and placed the half filled pot into the sink. He turned on the tap, the water coloured a murky grey the moment it hit the rice. He scrubbed it with his hand and poured the water out, careful not to lose any of the grains down the sink. He repeated the steps twice more before placing the rice back into the rice cooker and turning it on. 

“Have you never used one before?” Shiro leaned back, regarding Siegbert who studied the rice cooker as it hummed to life.

“No, we don’t eat much rice at home,” he said. “I don’t cook often either,” he added shyly.

“What do you usually eat with your meals then?” He tilted his head and his brows drew upward. “What else can go with all your side dishes?”

He laughed. “We don’t starve if that’s what you’re thinking. We eat other things - potatoes, pasta, bread. Rice occasionally.” 

Shiro nodded. “Oh, good. Those are good too.” He smiled a little, then said, “I thought I was going to have to cook for you a lot more...not that I’d mind. I think you’d mind before me.”

Siegbert gazed at Shiro, his heart lifting, racing as if he had ran quickly only moments before. Shiro cast his eyes downward, leaning heavily on the counter he rested his hand on. He let a silence settle between them as the smell of the kitchen filled with the spiced chicken. Siegbert regarded Shiro, charming even when embarrassed, smiling helplessly.

“I think we just need a salad and we’re good.” Shiro said finally. He went into the fridge and dug out vegetables from one of the bottom compartments. 

“I can help with this,” Siegbert said. He went beside Shiro, peering over his shoulder and into the refrigerator. 

“Great! You wanna chop the lettuce? I can get the sauce working in the meantime.”

He nodded and washed the head of cabbage thoroughly, pulling apart the leaves before setting it down on the cutting board. He washed the knife and cutting board too and after drying it, started cutting the cabbage slowly, placing the pieces into a bowl after he was finished. 

“So, how was the house tour?” Shiro prompted. He added unmeasured ingredients into a bowl, stirring and tasting as he went.

“It went very well. The house certainly is beautiful.”

“Did he show you every room?”

“No, but his favourites, I assume.”

Shiro chuckled. “Cool, sounds about right. Siegbert?”

“Hm?”

“The knife will be easier on the knuckles if you hold it like this.” Shiro dropped the chopsticks in his hand into the vinaigrette bowl and went beside Siegbert. He held out his hand hesitantly. “May I?” He asked.

Siegbert nodded and Shiro’s slightly wet hand slipped over his. Fingers so familiar to him fitted over his own, reforming their grip on the knife. Using gentle pressure, Shiro pressed down, cutting through the lettuce smoothly. Unlike before, Siegbert’s knuckles did not hit the cutting board causing them to redden. They continued like this, Shiro’s hand around his gently. His hands were always gentle.

“I’m sorry, I don’t do much cooking.” Siegbert confessed. Stubbornly, he omitted how he had maids and butlers to do so for him.

“No, it’s all good. I’ve just never seen you look lost on anything. If you need help you can ask, you know.” Siegbert jumped, feeling Shiro’s other hand at the small of his back. “Careful.”

“I...yes. Yes,” he said, exhaling deeply. “I don’t like appearing incompetent in front of people.”

Shiro tilted his head, pressing their temples together and said, “you don’t have to worry about that in front of me.” He spoke so gently and clearly, Siegbert could not help but press himself closer to him.

With the salad finished, they were left with nothing to do except wait for the chicken to finish cooking in the oven. Shiro had offered him tea when Forrest walked in. He had changed out of his uniform and wore something that Siegbert could only assume to be the formal wear Kiragi had promised him. He was practically glowing, twirling in the center of the kitchen, showing off the dress and all the designs embroidered onto the predominately pink fabric. Cinching his waist, he wore a sash in a darker shade of pink with a bow tied behind him.

“Siegbert, what do you think?” Forrest said excitedly. “It’s called a kimono. Isn’t it lovely? You should see what else Kiragi has! I feel so inspired, I can’t wait to start sewing when I get home.” He lifted a corner of the sleeve of the kimono, feeling the fabric on his cheek.

“It looks great on you, Forrest.” Siegbert said. It was a generic compliment, but he meant it genuinely. He thought Forrest looked nice in everything he wore.

“Yeah, the colour suits you,” added Shiro offhandedly. Siegbert smiled at him appreciatively.

“Does it? You both flatter me,” Forrest beamed. “You would look very handsome in one too, Siegbert.”

“I don’t believe so,” said Siegbert. “Are all kimonos made so vibrantly?” He asked Shiro.

“Nope. Why? Want to try one?” He smirked, the idea playing of interest to him.

Before Siegbert could answer, Kiragi strolled into the kitchen lifting his nose in the air and said, “Chicken’s ready. I can smell it.” The thought was put on hold and the four of them separated their tasks, setting up the casual dinner table in the kitchen. Kiragi had offered Siegbert and Forrest a fork. They both politely declined, though neither of them were exceptionally skilled with chopsticks. Nohr was always known for its pride.

Shiro, carrying the chicken last, set it down at the center of the table and took a seat across from Siegbert. In unison, they gave thanks for the meal before helping themselves to the food in front of them.

“This seems different from your usual Shiro standard chicken. It tastes like...lemon pepper?” Kiragi said. He brought a drumstick to his mouth and took a bite. “Oh yeah, definitely lemon pepper. Why the change?”

He said, “my dad was adamant that lemon pepper was the best so I thought to give it a try. What do you think?”

Taking a delicate bite, Forrest said, “it’s good. Very edible.”

“Mhmm it’s definitely flavourful. Or maybe I’m just hungry…,” Kiragi said, smiling widely.

“At least you’re honest.” Shiro said wryly, nudging Kiragi with his elbow.

Siegbert took a bite for himself, feeling Shiro’s eyes on him. He had not seen Shiro add the seasoning but he thought he must’ve been a little heavy handed when doing so. “It’s very good, Shiro. My compliments to the chef.” His expression afterwards made his heart feel full.

“You’re way too easy on him, Siegbert.” Kiragi said. 

\---

They finished the meal quickly, Siegbert ate well, his hunger not apparent until he sat in front of the food. As Shiro had said, he and Kiragi ate the majority of what was on the table, enjoying themselves unself-consciously. Forrest showed little surprise. He must have shared lunch with Kiragi often during school, Siegbert thought. Kiragi finished first, lifting the bowl up to his lips and shoveling the remainders of the rice into his mouth. 

“Okay I’m done, thanks for the meal. Last one to finish does the dishes,” he said. “You done, Forrest? Let’s go back outside.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and the back of his hand, he wiped with his shirt.

“Yes, I’m satisfied. Thank you for the meal,” said Forrest. “It was very well done, especially the miso soup. It would surely suit my father’s taste.”

“Aw you’re embarrassing me,” Shiro said. He threw a pointed look at Kiragi. “Wait a second, little man. We cooked. You clean.”

“What? It’s a rule here that the last one to finish does the dishes,” said Kiragi.

“That was never a rule.”

“That just sounds bad for your digestion,” said Forrest.

“Let’s settle this with a good ol’ arm wrestling match!” Shiro said. He propped his elbow up on the table in Kiragi’s direction.

“You gotta be kidding me!” Kiragi wailed. He looked around the table, his eyes landing on Siegbert’s last.

“Go ahead,” he said easily. He was still eating and did not want them to wait for him.

“Whoopie thanks, Siegbert,” and he left with Forrest, too quickly for Shiro to argue.

Shiro shook his head, filling up his bowl with another helping of rice. “You’re too easy on him.” 

Siegbert smiled. “I can clean up. I didn’t contribute to the cooking.”

“Of course you did! Besides, no way can I let a guest do the cleaning. But aren’t I a guest as well?” He gave his head a shake. “Don’t worry, I got your back.” He said between bites.

After they both finished their meal, they moved all of the dishes back to the kitchen to be washed. The leftover rice was packed into a container and put into the refrigerator along with the leftover soup. Shiro put the soup into a paper bag with the recipe written inside. 

“For Forrest to take home,” he said. Last went the chicken bones into the garbage disposal under the sink. They settled comfortably into a rhythm of washing and drying before Siegbert decided to speak.

“You mentioned before that the seasoning is the one your dad likes. Is he going to be at your game?”

“No,” Shiro said and when Siegbert didn't question further, “I didn’t ask him to come.” 

There was a bite in his words that took Siegbert aback and the air in the kitchen suddenly became rigid. He felt something in his chest that caused him unable to look at Shiro. Siegbert absentmindedly washed the dish in his hand as he thought. Then, in a sinking feeling that caused his breath to catch, he realized why. The words formed like bile in his throat and he clenched his jaw, staring at his distorted reflection in the dish in his hand. 

He swallowed hard. “Does he know about us?” He held his breath as he waited for Shiro’s answer and when it didn’t come, he spoke again. “I have not spoken to my father of us.” He had not seen his father in months. That he had found someone in his life like Shiro did not seem like something that should be said over email.

“He doesn’t know.” 

He did not know what he wanted Shiro to say but his heart sank painfully nonetheless. “Are you afraid?” He asked him.

Shiro did not look at him as he spoke. “No. Are you?” 

He was. He feared his father, if he would somehow hear of this through gossip and think him to be neglecting his duties. He feared their peers, for if they ever judged Shiro any differently because he had someone like himself by his side. And certainly, he feared Shiro’s father. He feared that even without meeting, he would know instinctively what Siegbert knew all along but never dared to say aloud. That he was unworthy of his son.

“At times,” he told him. 

Shiro turned to him, grey eyes softening. “You don’t need to worry. He would like you.”

They gazed at one another. “Truly?” He said.

“Yeah, definitely. He’d love a son like you.” 

The first cracks of thunder struck outside. They both looked to the window as a sheet of rain descended down into the garden in a heavy downpour.

“What do you -” 

“Later,” Shiro interrupted. He heard it then too, the light, damp feet hurrying towards them. Moments later, Kiragi threw himself into the kitchen, his shirt sticking to his body, dripping from the rain. Forrest arrived shortly after him. The kimono hung damp on his body and his curls, flattened from the sudden downpour.

“My curls….the kimono….all soaking wet,” he groaned. “Kiragi! Please don’t shake your head like that, the water is getting everywhere!”

“I’ll go get towels and some clothes for you two,” said Shiro. He left to another room and came back shortly with fluffy white towels in his hands. Siegbert caught one tossed to him and he knelt in front of Forrest, gently helping him dry. Shiro went to Kiragi and did the same, though noticeably more roughly. Kiragi’s hair stuck up every which way when it emerged from underneath the towel Shiro used to dry him with. Taking the towels to the laundry room, Shiro came back with a new set of clothes for the both of them. A set of blue pajamas for Kiragi and pink traditional clothing for Forrest. Though still colourfully decorated, there was no wrap that cinched the waist, and the sleeves stopped at the elbows. Finally, instead of a dress, shorts completed the look. 

“It’s called a jinbei.” Shiro said and he tossed a larger set to Siegbert. “This one’s for you.”

“Me?”

“Who else?” He smiled. 

Siegbert followed Forrest to a guest room where they changed into their jinbeis. The thin fabric fell loose on him, too large for his shoulders. It seemed new, evident from the stubborn creases and stiffness in the clothing.

“The colour looks lovely with your hair,” Forrest cooed, feeling the royal purple between his fingers. “You look very much like Uncle Xander.”

“No, I could never…,” he mumbled sheepishly. Perhaps he was passed down the blond hair that curled at the ends when it grew past his ears, but that was the beginning and end of their similarities. He did not have his eyes, full of wisdom and experience, skills given by the gods and perfected, and certainly he did not have his iron will and faith needed to lead a nation. His father was the pillar of their entire family, whereas he himself amounted only to a pebble lying in his shadows.

Siegbert thought of this as he followed Forrest to the theatre room. He looked up from the floor, his eyes meeting Shiro’s who regarded him, his brows slightly furrowed. He did not look like he wished to speak but his mouth hung open and his eyes traced the lines of his face, then dropped lower until the stopped a where the jinbei exposed the pale skin of his chest. Siegbert blinked and that fleeting moment disappeared for Shiro turned his eyes away soon after. 

He spoke nothing of it and the four of them sat lazily in front of the television, the night passing by as the downpour continued outside. Siegbert did not bother watching the program, he was still bothered by his conversation with Shiro from before. Later, he had said. His thoughts ran through a million possibilities of what later could possibly mean as the time passed. Eventually, he grew tired, his body sinking into the seat. Next to him, Shiro flicked off the television.

“Time for bed,” he said, nudging Kiragi with his knee. “Kiragi, don’t fall asleep on me. I need your help with the futons.”

Kiragi grumbled an incoherent response. His hair had lost its prior dampness but retained its disheveled appearance.

“We should leave,” Siegbert said, covering his mouth to yawn. He would call a driver from the train station.

Shiro shook his head. “Like hell you are. It’s still raining outside. No way you’re going out in that. You can stay over.” His lips quirked up into a smirk. It was what he had said the day they first met. “I thought we can lay out the futons here.”

Siegbert looked at Forrest, already half asleep beside Kiragi. He nodded, “please excuse us for intruding.”

He did not bother asking what a futon was, assuming it to be some sort of sleeping bag. His assumptions proved correct for the most part and they laid down two large futons in the center of the room then gathered pillows from the guest room. Kiragi and Forrest managed to shuffle themselves into the middle of the two futons before collapsing onto them. Shiro laid out another smaller one to his side next to Kiragi.

“He tosses,” said Shiro. Then in a whisper, “Siegbert, I want to show you something.”

They received a muffled “Good night” and Siegbert left, following Shiro out of the room. 

“Where are we going?”

Shiro said nothing, taking his hand now to guide him in the dark. They walked outside in the rain, sheltered by the roof over the porch. Shiro stopped in front of one of the rooms Kiragi had skipped. A clap of thunder sounded in the sky and they both turned their head in the direction it had sounded from. 

“Do you like storms?” Shiro asked suddenly.

Siegbert gazed at him. “Yes,” he said. 

The hand around his squeezed a little tighter. “In here,” said Shiro.

Inside the small room Shiro had led him to sat only a table, again low to the floor and a single cushion placed in front of it for a person to kneel. There were papers on the table, large and slightly browned at the corners. A large brush and stone slab was placed on the right hand side. Like the other rooms he had seen, it was sparingly decorated. A framed painted symbol hung in front of the table was the only decorative piece.

“I thought Kiragi would have probably skipped this room. It’s called calligraphy. I thought you might like it.”

“Are you sure this is alright?” They walked inside and Shiro closed the door behind them. 

“It’s all good. Kiragi never uses this anyways.” Shiro sat down next to the table, offering the cushion to Siegbert. “This is a type of art - of writing. Like the way you write. Here, I’ll make the ink for you.” Shiro ground a black ink stick into the stone in small circles. With added water, a pool of thick black ink formed in the depression of the slab. “Take this brush and hold it kind of like how you would hold a pencil...three fingers...yeah, that’s it, and don’t let your wrist touch the rice paper. Good. Now try to write something.”

“What should I write?” The brush hovered over the blank paper nervously in his hand.

“Anything you want.”

“You first,” he said, pushing the brush in his hands.

“Me? Okay, but don’t expect it to be any good.” Shiro took the brush and wrote slowly, the links forming on the paper, changing thickness as Shiro carefully drew lines with the ink. It was beautiful, like watching a painting come to life.

“You’re good at this.” Siegbert said.

Shiro shook his head. “No way. My dad likes writing letters so this stuff was always in the house. Okay, now you try. Write this under it.” On the margin of the rice paper, Shiro wrote out a smaller character hastily with the remaining ink on the brush. 

Siegbert took the brush in his hand, holding it in the way Shiro had instructed him before. He looked at the blank space before him. “I’m not sure,” he said. He heard Shiro crawl behind him now, on his hands and knees. He rested his chin on Siegbert’s shoulder and lifted a hand over Siegbert’s which held the brush. His hand did not move in an effort to guide him, but held it as a support, keeping him from quivering. 

“Go on,” Shiro said. He shifted his weight so that he leaned on his other hand, placed beside Siegbert’s hip. Siegbert felt Shiro’s heart beat steadily in his chest through the thin fabric of the jinbei, matching his own. The warmth from Shiro’s chest transferred to his back, warming him but he found himself shudder, his lower back tingling.

He lay the brush down, the first touch of black ink colouring the paper, and he dragged the brush down diagonally, flicking it at the end so that the line thinned before lifting it away. “Like this?”

Shiro breathed out a laugh, his hair tickling Siegbert’s cheek as he moved.

Frowning, Siegbert said, “is it really so awful?” 

“No no, that’s not it. Sorry, but I couldn’t help it! I knew you would take to this,” said Shiro. “Keep going, you’re a natural.”

Feeling his cheeks grow warm, he continued, using the same slow and deliberate method to finish the rest of the character. Shiro’s hand remained on his, providing warmth and steadiness that extended to his writing. Shiro was still pressed upon him, their breathing matched in rhythm as they finished the final stroke. Neither had spoken, but steadily he could feel themselves breathe heavier as they continued. “What did we write?” Siegbert asked, his heart and his lungs heavy once they finished.

“Courage,” Shiro said in the same breathlessness. 

“You seem like you have plenty.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you personify courage,” said Siegbert. He placed his other hand on top of the one Shiro used to support his body weight. “But you’ve looked tired recently. Is there anything I could help you with?”

“So you noticed, huh?” He made a low sound of laughter, barely audible but felt because of the closeness in which they held their bodies. He hesitated for a moment. “I was made captain of the rugby team this year,” Shiro began. “All my teammates, friends, and Benny were thrilled. But our first playoff match is coming up and I’m expected to lead them. I didn’t join wanting to be captain, now I’m expected to lead them into victory? The team is good. We can place well with the right person taking the lead. I’m not sure I have what it takes.”

Siegbert thought carefully before answering. “If you were to ask me,” he said, “I think you’re very capable of leadership. Just looking around you, people flock to your side, trusting your judgement. You have charisma, Shiro. I do not think your teammates would support you so wholeheartedly if they did not think you were capable.”

“They might think so only because of how I am on the field but a leader needs many more qualities than that. I don’t have those. My father does, he’s the big leader type. And I’m not that.”

 _And I’m not that._ He spoke the words with an ugliness that Siegbert never imagined coming from him.

“Why should he come?” Shiro continued. “He can lead an army, I don’t even know if I can lead my teammates.” 

Siegbert held Shiro’s hand tightly, brushing his thumb against the back of his hand. He thought carefully of what to say next, the words coming out slowly. “Skills take experience to hone,” he said. “I certainly believe you have what is necessary to lead. Although those skills may be unpolished, they are there undoubtedly. You are unparalleled when it comes to raw potential. Do not count yourself out without giving the time needed to become who you can be.” 

“Like yourself? If you could be the captain I’m sure you’ll be able to lead them,” said Shiro.

“If I was given the privilege to make the decisions for the team, I would make you captain.”

“Huh?”

“You are not blinded by your physical prowess in the sport. Instead, you realize your own shortcomings and want to improve on them. How could anyone not admire someone like that? Your team made the right choice in electing you captain.”

Shiro said nothing, then removed his hand from underneath Siegbert’s. He kicked out his feet from under him, sitting widely so that his legs were on either side of him. His cheek pressed into Siegbert’s and his free arm wrapped around him tightly. Shiro sighed deeply, a smile in his voice as he said, “I’m a lucky man to have you by my side.”

Siegbert felt the back of his neck grow hot with Shiro pressed so close to him. He still held the brush in his hand, but Shiro’s hand had left it, moving their way up his arm and under it so that it draped around his waist.

“You’re very warm,” said Shiro, a low murmur in his ear. He felt something soft press onto the nape of his neck, gently and when they were gone he felt hot breath where the softness had been. He realized with a heat spreading between his shoulders that it was his lips that had touched him.

“Shiro, what are you doing?” He said, flustered.

Shiro did not answer him, but instead, pressed his nose into Siegbert’s hair. He inhaled deeply and pulled Siegbert closer into his chest. 

“Shiro! You’re…,” he could not speak, his thoughts escaping him. He felt Shiro’s hands wander on his chest, the tips of his fingers brushed against the open ‘V’ of the jinbei he wore. Then, they slipped between them, Shiro’s hands hot on his bare skin.

“My what?” Shiro said, his voice low. 

“Hands…,” he managed to force out. He could not think, not with Shiro’s hands touching him so tenderly. He did not know why he kept the brush in his hand, perhaps it grounded him to the room, convinced him that everything was real. He breathed deeply, his free hand catching onto Shiro’s wrist, wrapping tightly around the thick flesh and bone.

“What else am I doing?” He said. His voice touched with childish teasing and something else Siegbert did not realize until he pressed himself into Shiro and felt a growing hardness against his lower back.

They both breathed heavily, matching so that they tasted each other in the air. Shiro’s hands were relentless on his torso, grazing his chest, his thumbs gliding over his collarbone. One of his hands slid deeper into the jinbei, his fingers finding a perked nipple, kneading it between forefinger and thumb. Siegbert couldn’t help his reaction, jumping slightly at Shiro’s touch. 

Siegbert let out a small sound and he reached his free hand back behind his head, grabbing a fistful of Shiro’s hair. He slid lower so that he could spread his legs apart, and lifted his head, exposing the pale white column of his neck. Shiro removed his hand from his nipple, caressing the lines of his stomach, stopping where his shorts tented. Using his other hand, Shiro took his chin in his hand, turning his face towards his. His eyes were half lidded, shards of marble that saw only him. 

Siegbert searched his face, his lips separated, breaths coming wildly. He looked at Shiro and they held themselves in this suspended distance so closely that he could smell him, a mixture of sweat and something sweet that he could not quite place. He leaned in closer, tilting his head in an offering. “We can’t go back from this.”

“Good.” His lips pressed upon his. Tender and cautious. Warm and so very gentle. Siegbert’s heart threatened to burst through his chest, they were pressed against each other so that nothing could come between them but still they were not close enough. They pulled away in unison reaching for each other, their lips slightly parted again and again until Siegbert began to memorize the way his lips formed, and his own stopped quivering. Eventually, the caution subsided and he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of Shiro’s lips on his own. He felt his body returning to him, recognizing Shiro’s hands on his chin and between his thighs.

“Shiro? Siegbert?” 

A voice came from outside, the rain had died down though he could not recall when. The light had been left on in the calligraphy room, giving away their location. Kiragi slid the door open, rubbing his eyes, his face muddied from interrupted sleep.

“I can’t reach the top blanket and Forrest says I kick too much. Can you get it please?” Upon seeing them, he blinked, fully awake.

In his shock, Siegbert pushed himself off Shiro, hastily rightening his jinbei. His hand still holding the brush came across Shiro’s face, drawing a thick black line of ink from his cheekbone to his chin. “I’m so sorry!” His eyes wide as Shiro blinked at him. Slowly, Shiro brought a hand to his face where the ink had touched him. He drew the hand away, finding black ink on his fingertips. 

“Did you think of that too, Siegbert?” Kiragi said. “ I was gonna wait until he was asleep first…” For his accident, Siegbert was rewarded with an approving look from Kiragi. “You should definitely come visit my secret treehouse tomorrow.”

Standing, Shiro grumbled something inaudible and pulled his tank top down, stretching it over his shorts. Siegbert followed him back to the main room where Forrest slept soundly. Shiro quietly got another blanket out for Kiragi who thanked him, taking it for himself and collapsed back onto the futon. 

In the darkness, Shiro touched a hand to his. He looked almost apologetic. They gazed at one another, fingers intertwined. With reluctance, he let go and they went to their separate sides of the futon. Siegbert could not sleep, opting to stare at the ceiling, recounting the events prior until he saw Shiro get up and leave the room. He thought to wait to see Shiro return but in time, his eyelids grew heavy and tiredness covered him like a blanket. He slept, a deep peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The calligraphy scene is where the story started (originally as a oneshot smut fic) but then it kept getting bigger and bigger, resulting in Cursive =]  
> I’m so sorry for the delay - life got in the way =/ thank you for sticking with the story! I hope this chapter was worth the wait.  
> Thank you all so much for the hits, comments, subscriptions, and kudos! I can't believe this story broke 100+ kudos! I drew a little something on my tumblr to celebrate. Please check it out at: http://r48j72kd.tumblr.com. I'm also free to talk there - about ShiroSieg, this story, writing, BL, anything. I'd love to meet you ^.^  
> My schedule has settled down a bit so the next chapter won’t take nearly as long. I'll keep working hard!


	5. Chapter 5

Cursive

 

\-- Chapter Five --

 

Siegbert fidgeted uncomfortably in his stool, the legs were unbalanced, knocking him from side to side each time he shifted his weight. Warily, he looked to the other students in class and found that they were all so focused on their sketches that not a person looked back at him. He sat with his back to the window, facing the center of the room where a sculpted bust of a man was placed for them to sketch. His lids were half-mast and his hair a mess of curls, cut short, basking in the sunlight from the window like there rested a golden crown. His nose was perfectly angular with lips drawn like a bow. 

“Is something troubling you, Siegbert?” Shigure spoke in a quiet voice beside him. He sat perfectly poised, his limbs arranging themselves neatly on the stool, hand gliding gently on the canvas, shading the fold of the bust’s eyelid. Siegbert checked his own posture, noting the tension in his shoulders and breathed deeply.

“No, nothing,” he said. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“You’re frowning,” said Shigure and he put his pencil down, regarding him in a concerned expression.

Siegbert felt it deepen. “My stool is unbalanced,” he said sheepishly. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry I interrupted you.” Siegbert picked up his pencil and brought his hand to rest on the canvas. He drew nothing, only hoping the motion would cause Shigure to say nothing more on the matter.

“Would you like to trade? It doesn’t matter to me,” Shigure said. He inclined his head towards Siegbert, a piece of light blue hair obstructed one of his eyes.

“No,” Siegbert said, too quickly and too loudly so that the students closest to them turned their heads. He bowed his head and in a small voice, “I will be fine. I don’t wish to trouble you.”

Shigure smiled gently. “No trouble. Here,” he stood gracefully from his stool, to which Siegbert did the same, rather reluctantly and not quite as graceful. Shigure lifted his stool and placed it close to Siegbert, taking the unbalanced one for himself.

“You really didn’t have to...but thank you, Shigure,” said Siegbert.

“You’re welcome,” he said and sat back down to continue sketching.

Siegbert gathered a breath and turned his focus to the half completed sketch in front of him. He shifted into his stool and gripped the pencil in his hand, gently applying pressure to paper. His eyes went to the bust, memorizing how the shadows cut fine angled lines onto the face and continued with his sketch.

As he drew, Siegbert faintly heard Shigure’s voice humming a song beside him. The class was permitted to bring portable music devices to listen to while they sketched but Siegbert rarely took his out. When seated next to Shigure, he found no music quite as relaxing as his friend’s gentle singing voice. He had once asked Shigure why he did not join choir but he only smiled and shook his head. He could sing while in art class but not paint while in choir, Shigure had said.

Relaxing his body, the lines came to life without so much hesitation. Siegbert darkened the lines on the back of the neck, emphasizing the shadows and blended inwardly, adding depth to his sketch. Siegbert leaned to the side to peek at the bust behind his canvas, focusing on the dips and curves of the neck. He touched his own with his fingertips, treading lightly, his mind wandering back to the night two weeks prior where he had found himself in Shiro’s arms. He traced over the skin Shiro had pressed his lips upon and felt the back of his neck flush and his heart quicken.

“You seem quite distracted today,” said Shigure, his voice touched with amusement. Then when Siegbert only flushed more deeply, “could it be about the rumours of you and Shiro?”

Siegbert spun his head around to Shigure, eyes wide and searching. Shigure was drawing effortlessly, each line purposeful and clean. He cleared his throat with a cough and said, “What rumours have you heard?” Never had he thought himself interesting enough to be gossiped over.

A small upturn of his lips and Shigure said, “Some of the girls in my class have been talking. They say you’ve been eating lunch with him and going home together as well. I suppose it is not so surprising that they took notice.”

“Why would that be?” His face remained slightly flushed.

Shigure crossed his legs. “You never did before.”

“I did not think it would be commented on.” He blinked innocently. Gossip spread so quickly it needed no wings. 

Shigure shrugged. “I wouldn’t pay too much mind. They only brought it up because you both seem too different to be friends.”

Siegbert thought there was a time when he would have agreed with them. “I do not think we are so different,” he said finally. “You know him as well, Shigure?”

He nodded his head. “My mother is friends with his father.”

“Is she?” He said with interest.

Shigure nodded. “Yes, they’ve been friends for a long time. I met Shiro when we were very young, he was always so full of energy. Rugby suits him well. Are you going to the game tonight?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. It’s a shame your performance is on the same night but I’m glad Dwyer was able to help you out,” Siegbert said. Shigure had asked him to help book a show at the coffee shop the week prior. Siegbert had relayed the message to Dwyer who was able to convince Jakob. Siegbert had no doubt it would go over smoothly. His gentle voice would be perfect for the evening atmosphere inside the coffee shop and Dwyer told him that Jakob had agreed halfway before the recording of his song even finished.

“It was all thanks to you for telling him about me,” Shigure said, smiling appreciatively. He tilted his head and leaned back, regarding his sketch with his eyes narrowing slightly.

He opened his mouth to say more but was interrupted by the sound of crashing bodies outside of their classroom. Siegbert saw nothing from where the sound came from except for a flash of red hair and a blond head bobbing beside it. He leaned to the side, hoping to catch sight of the incident but was blocked by the art teacher checking on them. After a muffled response, they stood quickly and were gone. Their art teacher, Miss Kagero, closed the door afterwards.

Shigure said, “I wonder what that was about.” His expression mirrored Siegbert’s own concern.

“I hope they’re alright,” he said. Siegbert felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He slipped it out from his pocket to see that Dwyer had sent him a message asking him to go to work after he was finished with classes. He furrowed his brow since he remembered booking the day off two weeks in advance but before he could respond, Dwyer sent him another message.

Only for a meeting with my old man.  
Don’t worry, you’re not getting fired.  
It’s good news.

He thought for a moment and typed out a quick response then said to Shigure, “I guess I’ll be stopping by work today. Do you want to go together?”

“Of course, but is anything the matter?” Shigure asked. At the corner of his finished sketch, he dated and signed it in careful cursive.

“No, I don’t think so but Dwyer says I have to meet with Jakob today,” he said. The bell for end of period rang. He looked at his unfinished sketch and bit his cheek. “I’ll meet you at the school gate after last period?”

“That would be splendid. And try not to worry, Siegbert. The game doesn’t start until 6, you have plenty of time to make it back.” Shigure said, offering a smile. He gathered his materials in his bag and stood to wait as Siegbert did the same.

He said, “you’re right, Shigure. I do wish I could watch you sing though.”

Shigure chuckled. “Hopefully, this will be one of many,” he said lightly.

\---

After arriving at the coffee shop, Shigure was quickly pulled to the side by Dwyer to go over the setup of his stage. Siegbert watched as Dwyer pointed to the space beside the fireplace, waving a finger vaguely at the tables and chairs. He thought it was a good spot, spacious enough for all the equipment and right in front of the windows so that Shigure would be performing with the sun setting behind him.

Once Jakob was finished serving a couple of customers, he led Siegbert to one of the empty tables near the back of the shop. Siegbert sat with his back pressed against the chair, his shoulders held rigidly as he waited for Jakob to speak who only met his eyes with silence. Dwyer’s message had predicted good news, but he was still filled with the same anxiousness he had felt the day he received the call for the interview.

After what seemed like an outstretched moment, Jakob cleared his throat and said, “Siegbert, I’ve called you in today because I wanted to offer you a promotion.”

“Promotion,” he said slowly.

“Yes, you always come in on time if not early, you take shifts whenever I ask, Dwyer and I trust you to do good work, and our menu board has never looked better. Admittedly, when I first hired you I was worried about how you would interact with the customers but no incidents have been reported and you seem quite comfortable working at the till, especially as of recent. I think a promotion should be expected,” Jakob said. “It comes with a raise-”

“I don’t need the money,” he interrupted quickly.

Jakob gave him a pointed look. “I know you don’t, I’m just adding this as a formality. I want to promote you to an assistant manager. I think you’ll do well with the extra responsibilities.” He paused, eyes locked on Siegbert’s as he searched his face. “If you’re thinking of Dwyer you don’t need to. Frankly speaking, I am thinking of expanding the business. Dwyer will be in charge of another location and I want to hire more staff to work here. It would be a good experience for you to teach them and you’re definitely qualified to do so. Dwyer was actually the one who convinced me to finally go through with this idea.” He paused and with a wry twist of his mouth said, “my son can be a bit sentimental.”

Siegbert only stared back at him in silence, lips pressed together hoping to suppress a grin.

“Please wipe that ridiculous smile from your face,” Jakob said uncomfortably. “I will remove my offer in the next five seconds if you don’t.”

“Yes, I apologize,” he said graciously. “Thank you for your consideration, Jakob. I will accept the promotion.”

“Good,” he said, standing up. “You really had no choice in the matter. I would have fired you if you did not.” Jakob smoothed his apron as he stood and pushed in his chair.

Siegbert stood as well and shook the hand that Jakob reached out to him. “Thank you, Jakob and congratulations.”

With a curt nod, Jakob made his way back behind the counter to help a customer in waiting and Siegbert went over to Shigure and Dwyer discussing the stage setup by the windows. When they saw him approach, Siegbert was still wearing a rather foolish grin and Dwyer said, “I assume it all went well?”

“I got a promotion,” he said, his quiet voice doing little to hide how pleased he felt. Dwyer and Shigure congratulated him and Siegbert continued to Dwyer, “I’m glad your father is thinking of expanding. You did well to convince him.”

Dwyer shrugged in the same awkward manner as Jakob had before and said, “I always thought he should.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Anyways, about the stage...”

Shigure and Dwyer brought him up to speed with the stage setup they were discussing. So far, they had decided that three tables were to be moved and the stage platforms would be brought out from the back. The microphone would have to be dug out from the storage room and so would two speakers. Dwyer added that the curtains were long overdue for a cleaning as well.

“Are you staying to watch?” Dwyer asked. He had begun writing a list of the equipment needed to be taken from storage on a sticky note pad.

Siegbert shook his head, “I am going to the rugby game back at school so I can’t stay.”

He nodded slowly so that the hair tied on the top of his head bobbed. “Oh, so that’s why Shiro isn’t here,” Dwyer said.

Shigure looked curiously between the two of them. “Shiro comes here?”

“Sure he does, pretty much every time Siegbert works he’s here camped out at one of the tables pretending to study,” said Dwyer. Siegbert avoided meeting Shigure’s curious stare and thankfully, Dwyer continued. “I was hoping he’d show up too actually. Could really use his help with the heavy lifting.”

“Worry not, Dwyer,” Shigure said. “We can get this done ourselves.” Shigure took the list from him and scanned it quickly. “First, we should move the tables then I want to move the speakers inside so we can see if we need extension cables. The small vacuum should also be plugged in so we can get to work on those curtains.”

Dwyer’s shoulders rolled forward into a slouch, his eyes narrowed into a lazy gaze at Shigure who stood beside him, “you’re a real ‘my pace’ kind of guy, aren’t you?”

Shigure chose to say nothing to this. “Next time, you and Shiro should both come, Siegbert.” He paused, then said, “Have fun at the game,” in such a way that caused Siegbert to flush so deeply it did not subside until he was halfway back to the school.

\---

From where he was warming up on the field, Shiro had a clear view of the bleachers where the spectators sat. He waved at Asugi and Nina who were seated near the middle and continued on with his stretches. He still wore his hoodie to keep his body warm and with the cooling temperatures of Autumn, paired long socks that rose up his calf, stopping below the knee. Standing up and putting his feet together, he dug his cleats into the grass and reached down. His fingertips stopped at the middle of his calves before he began feeling a pull on the back of his thighs.

“Need help, Shiro?” a cheerful voice called out a few paces away from him. A cold chill ran through his body. It would be impossible to pretend he did not hear, his body having move instinctively when he heard his name.

“Oh, I’m good Sophie. I feel great,” he said as offhandedly as he could manage. Ignatius, who had been warming up next to him, conveniently went to get a drink of water from his bag by the benches.

“Come on, Shiro. This’ll help you limber up,” Sophie stepped beside him while he kept his head down so he saw nothing except for the approach of dirty runners and track pants. Shiro clenched his jaw, bracing himself. Sophie straightened out his knees and took to kneeling beside him in the grass, using her arms to force his body closer to his chest.

“Ow.”

Sophie ignored him and applied steady pressure. “That’s...a bit better. Try to keep your knees straight and remember, focus on chest to knees not fingers to toes.”

Shiro thought that humans were not made to bend this way, he stumbled backwards, out of reach of Sophie and shook himself up. “I’m good, that’s enough Sophie, please no more.” He backed away to Ignatius who was tying his long blond hair into a low ponytail.

“Hey, who’s the manager here?” She pouted. “Come back here, Shiro!”

“Sorry, Sophie,” he said quickly. “Think it’s time to get some warm ups going.” Shiro jogged to the center of the field, dragging the bag of rugby balls with him and his teammates followed him, grabbing a ball and separating into pairs to warm up their passes. Ignatius stood across from Shiro at a distance, ready to accept. Shiro took the ball in his hands, throwing the ball from the right side of his body and sent it flying through the air to be caught by Ignatius.

“Could you throw it a little lighter, Shiro?” Ignatius said after a few passes between them. “We’re on the same team.”

He laughed loudly. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just excited.” He caught Ignatius’ pass in his hands, turning the ball around to feel the leather against his palms and sent it back to him, lightly.

Ignatius frowned. “I’m so nervous, I feel like bolting.”

“You always say that before a game,” he said easily. “But you always end up doing well anyways.” He laughed again.

Ignatius pressed his lips together and turned the ball around in his hand, launching it in the air. When Shiro caught it, the feeling was better in his hands. “By the way, my dad and I made charms for the team. Do you think we can hand them out before the game starts?” Ignatius said.

“You did?” Shiro said. “That’s great, thanks buddy. Yeah, let’s do it before we start.”

With the remaining warm up time, Benny called the different positions up in groups to discuss their roles for the game while the rest of the team practiced plays, separated into forwards and backs. Shiro was there as well for most of the discussions, going over positioning and strategy with his teammates and Benny.

The referee blew their whistle and both teams went back to their benches. Shiro took off his hoodie, exposing his team uniform with the number 2 and wristbands that he wore every game. He turned back to look at the bleachers, his heart settling into a steady rhythm when he saw Siegbert seated with Asugi and Nina. He waited only a moment until Siegbert’s gaze turned to him and waved brightly across the field. Siegbert, waving back easily, gave him a thumbs up to which Shiro grinned and turned back to his team with newfound energy.

Benny gathered the team around in a huddle and gave a small nod to Shiro who took a deep breath and spoke.

“Ok guys, first playoff game,” he began. “We’ve worked hard this year. Really hard. Now we’re in a great place as a team, probably the best form we’ve ever been in this whole season. We can definitely pull off a win here in our home crowd. Play as you always do. Don’t be nervous,” a quick glance at Ignatius. “Ignatius?”

He nodded and from a small bag he had in his hands took out a small charm of a dragon wearing their team uniform. “My dad and I made these charms for the team. There’s one for you too, Sophie.” He began passing them around, handing one to Sophie first, who huddled in with them to his right.

“Oh wow, thank you,” Sophie said. She took the charm in her hand, twirling it around by the string attached to the top. “They are so cute! It’s a keychain right? I can’t wait to put it on my phone,” Sophie said, cheerfully.

Shiro took his too. He took small pleasure in imagining Benny and Ignatius, both outwardly intimidating, huddled around a table crafting charms in their free time. He looked at the dragon, the eyes jiggled when he shook it, and its tongue stuck out from his mouth. Cute, he thought. Grasping it carefully in his hand, Shiro put his hand in the middle and waiting for the rest of his team to do the same. “We definitely got this now,” he said causing a small ripple of laughter. “This is our time! Let’s show them what we’ve got! On three...one...two...dragons!”

The team stuck close to the benches going over last minute plays as Shiro went to the referee with the other team captain to do the coin toss. As the guest, Shiro let them do the call. The opposing captain called correctly, earning first possession of the ball. Shiro went back to inform his team and they set out into their positions on the field.

He looked at Siegbert on the bleachers closest to his side. He gave a quick nod and took his position as the hooker, far back from the center line with both props at his side. The rest of the team lined up, spreading across the width of the field in preparation of the kick off. He heard Ignatius exhale a shaky breath to his side.

“Good thing you have an intimidating look about you,” he said, clapping him on the back. “Perfect for a tight prop.”

“I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” he said.

The whistle blew and the dropkick began the game. The ball flew forward in the air and the other team charged at them in a line. From the arc of the ball, Shiro knew that it would be caught by one of his back row teammates to his left and would lead to a scrum. He rushed left, the ball landed in the hands of one of his teammates as the other team rushed them forward, piling on top of them in an effort to get possession. Shiro wrapped an arm around the props on either side of him, taking himself into the middle of the scrum.

His position of the hooker, forced him to the middle and with both arms around the props, he struck forcefully with his feet. The ball ended up tunnelling through behind him to a team member who kicked it up in the air. Shiro got up quickly, breaking into a sprint, moving forward with the rest of his team.

The opposing team managed to catch the ball but he followed the trajectory, crashing into the player and tackled them into the ground. The ball slipped out of the player’s hand and Shiro managed to grab a hold of it.

“Right side,” Shiro yelled. He found a wing to his side and threw the ball to him. Catching it well, he sped down the sidelines, making a break for the opponent’s try-zone. Shiro picked himself up, running with him along with the rest of the team. He tackled an ongoing defender, clearing the path as did other members of his team. The opponent struggled but Shiro threw him to the side and got up again for another tackle. He dashed forward, colliding with the final line of defense. The wing continued his run, faster than Shiro could ever pull off himself and dove for the try-zone. He landed inside the line, the ball clutched in his arms and a collection of defenders grabbing him by the knees and ankles. The referee blew the whistle and awarded their team five points for the try and reset so that they could kick for an extra two.

Shiro took the kick, lining himself up behind the line. He kicked it easily between the uprights, scoring another two points. There was a quick celebration with his team and the stomping of spectators on the bleachers then the teams reset again and Shiro prepared himself for another defensive run.

At the end of the first half, Shiro’s team led by 7, the score 15-8. His uniform was appropriately dirty and he had hit his nose while performing a tackle, bled spewing out before the end of the first half. It was rather annoying to deal with, and without so much as a disapproving look, Sophie handed him some gauze to stick up his nostril and he finished up the first half with his team.

Once the ten minute half time began, Benny gave him a quick look over and threw a cold towel on the back of his neck to cool him down. Sophie spent the break disinfecting scratches and icing bruises while his team mates ate and reviewed the first half with Benny. Shiro sat on the bench, moving as little as possible while listening to Benny go over their plays. The first half felt good and they had the lead, easily finding their rhythm on the home field. Though it was too early to relax, he felt rather confident in their play. With a couple minutes left before the start of the second half, Shiro removed the bloody gauze and wiped the remaining trickle of blood, staining his wristband. He stood, hopping in place to warm up his body and gathered with his team again, ready to get the second half started.

“You done bleeding on us, Shiro?” Ignatius asked warily.

Shiro brought his wristband up to his nose again and when he took it away, it came back clean. “Yup, good to go. I forgot you could be so squeamish,” he said with a nudge and smirk.

“Try not to run into them with your face again, captain,” one of his teammates teased.

Shiro laughed, “yeah, guess I’ll work on that.” The referee blew the whistle again, signalling them onto the field to begin the second half.

Shiro’s team started on the offensive and in the mess of tumbling bodies, he fought through aggressive play from the opposing team, renewed with the tension of falling behind. Benny had prepared them for this so their aggressive push did not taken them by surprise. They matched their pace, pushing forward on offense for the majority of the game. Their lines were strong, breaking through the opponent and physically, they were superior. They maintained the possession for the majority of the game, coming out with the ball for many of the scrums and mauls. With two minutes left, they led comfortably with a score of 27-12.

For the final play, the opposition drop-kicked the ball in play but a fumble allowed one of his team’s quicker wings to snatch it from the ground, sprinting again for the try zone. The play was too ambitious and without the support from his team, the wing was taken down quickly by the back row but Shiro, who was closest to him, dashed forward to tackle him into the ground. He tore the ball away and rolled on this back to find his team, passing to Ignatius who was beside him. Ignatius turned, throwing it to a flanker on his side and his team was up and running.

The opposition threw themselves onto the wing creating a large scrum. Shiro was still trying to catch up from his earlier tackle but he could see the ball coming up on his side. Ignatius took the ball, running with it in his hands but he was not so fast and Shiro could see the row of backliners that would eventually stop him.

“Ignatius!” He called and Ignatius turned back to him, throwing the ball heavily into the hands that Shiro outreached.

Shiro took a moment to gather his surroundings. Other than Ignatius beside him, the rest of the team was too far away to support him if he ran and the opponents closing in on him. He looked up and saw the uprights about 40 metres away from him. Ignatius moved to his left, acting as his only line of defense as he took the play for himself, kicking the ball hard and watching it soar in the air. It descended in an arc between the poles, scoring another three points for his team. With the final whistle, he found his teammates tackling him to the ground, gasping in laughter and shouts. The score was 30-12. They had won.

\---

After the game, Siegbert and Shiro enjoyed the empty field to themselves, sitting on the bleachers as the sky darkened above them. Siegbert gazed at Shiro, laying casually outstretched on the bleachers, the flat planes of his stomach rising and falling with each breath. He had his eyes closed, wearing a stillness that seemed impossible given his earlier performance on the field. Siegbert rested his head in his hand, balancing his elbow on his knee, his other hand intertwined with Shiro’s matted hair.

“What did you think, Siegbert?” He asked.

He stared out into the field in front of them, picturing the game he had watched only a short time before. Siegbert had spent the night reading and watching rugby games, understanding the positions and formations so that he would not feel completely lost. When Asugi had offered to explain it to him, he found himself able to contribute to the conversation enough to earn a raised brow and a smile.

What he did not expect was seeing Shiro on the field in a way he had never seen Shiro before. He watched heavy arms straining against bodies thrown upon each other, crashing like stones and drew his eyes to lips seeing them speak in a seriousness he had never witnessed. Shiro had always spoken to him with an air of teasing and playfulness but in front of him, spoke a leader, a commander on the field like in all the books of heroes he had read, spending countless hours in his library, deep into the night, his small hands turning pages and holding up the flashlight. How his maid scolded him in the mornings. 

“You did wonderfully,” Siegbert said warmly. His hand left Shiro’s hair and brushed the outline of Shiro’s collarbone over the uniform he wore, dragging it to his shoulder. In a soft murmur, he spoke, “I am glad you are so wide in the shoulders.”

Shiro caught his hand with his own, his eyes opening, striking as they met with his. They gazed at one another then suddenly, with more force than Siegbert expected, Shiro pulled him down by the hand, lifting his body to meet him halfway and into a kiss. When they parted, Shiro laid back down on the bleachers, his hand still wrapped around Siegbert’s.

“I haven’t seen you all day,” said Shiro.

“You haven’t.”

Shiro abruptly sat up and smiled. “Want to learn how to play?”

Siegbert blinked. “Me? Rugby?” Shiro had already pushed himself off the bleachers and out onto the field, bringing a ball with him and Siegbert found himself compelled to follow.

“It’s pretty easy. You throw from the side of your body and with two hands like this,” and the ball launched into the air, spiralling towards Siegbert in a slow arc. He watched it fly through the air, tracking it with his eyes until they reached his outstretched hands in front of his chest. He caught it, rather clumsily and brought it close to his chest.

“Oh good catch!” Shiro shouted from where he stood. “Now try to pass it back to me.”

From the videos he had watched last night, Siegbert already had an idea of how to pass the rugby. With his dominant hand, he gripped the ball tightly and brought it to his side, his other hand holding it loosely, ready to add the spin. He brought his arms in front of him and threw the ball, spinning it like Shiro had before. It flew crooked but Shiro caught it with outstretched hands and a slightly dazed look.

“That was your first time?” Shiro said, walking so that the distance between them decreased.

Siegbert nodded. He was not lying really. It truly was his first time throwing one by himself. Watching as Shiro’s expression tossed between one of amazement and disbelief, Siegbert bit back a smile and caught the ball as Shiro threw it back to him. Once in his hands, he felt the finely worn leather press into the pads of his fingertips when the heavy thuds of quick feet caused his eyes to rise and he saw Shiro running towards him with a wicked grin.

He clutched the ball tightly in his arms as Shiro ran into him, pulling him into the ground. Siegbert’s eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the impact of his body into the dirt though when he did, it was not quite as painful as he expected and his head was held protectively so that all he could smell was dirt, sweat, and Shiro’s shoulder. Even the way Shiro held him was gentle so that as little of his weight actually pinned him down. When he opened his eyes, Shiro was looking down at him, beaming.

“Now you know what it feels like to be tackled.”

A little breathless he said, “I do not think all tackles feel like this.”

Shiro brought his body up still clutched against his own. He felt shoulders shaking in their embrace and realized that he was laughing. The small shudders slowed and faded gradually, their bodies still drawn close, Shiro began rocking him. When they finally separated, one of Shiro’s hands rested on his knee and the other, to his jaw, the fingertips finding the back of his neck.

Siegbert allowed himself to be pulled in again for another kiss, this time more deeply. Shiro kissed his bottom lip, his top lip, then he parted his lips to kiss Siegbert again. He inhaled and Siegbert could feel the sharp intake of breath and the arching of his back as Shiro pulled their bodies closer.

With the motion, Siegbert heard a low grumbling of Shiro’s stomach and he opened his eyes in surprise.

“Guess I’m hungry,” Shiro laughed, his eyes dancing across Siegbert’s face.

Siegbert laughed too. “Should we get something to eat? I imagine Asugi and Ignatius would be at the restaurant by now.” The four of them and Nina had met up after the game was finished, hoping to go out to eat afterwards but Nina had an unexpected call with her father and Asugi and Ignatius excused themselves as well, saying that they’ll meet back up with them in an hour or so. They were left with nothing to do but wait which Siegbert found he did not mind doing so long as Shiro was next to him.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Shiro agreed. “Let’s get going.” He picked up his sports bag and stood while Siegbert did the same.

As he stood, Shiro was not looking back at him but staring across the field, his eyes unwavering and his lips pressed together in a line. Siegbert’s eyes followed Shiro’s to a well-dressed man in a fitted suit, leaning against one of the uprights. He had the same wide shoulders as Shiro and the same deep brown hair. The man was looking back at them. Siegbert felt his stomach sink and he looked back at Shiro. He already knew before he asked.

“Who is that man?”

“My dad,” he said. He turned back to look at Siegbert and threw his phone to him. “Could you let them know we’re coming? I’ll be right back.”

Siegbert nodded and watched Shiro as he jogged to his father, his arms crossed where he stood waiting. He found Ignatius’ name in Shiro's phone and emailed him quickly. When he looked up, Siegbert saw Shiro and his father watching him. His eyes met Shiro’s and he waved at him, asking him to come forward. It was impossible that he was looking at someone else in the empty field and even if he was scared, it would be rude for him not to. Siegbert's legs carried him across the field to them, each step landing heavily, he willed himself to continue forward.

He stood in front of Shiro’s father and unable to look him in the eye, studied the rest of his face finding how much Shiro looked like him, so much more than Siegbert looked like his own. The same nose with the slight upturn, cheekbones that cut sharply but were not give the feeling of sharpness. There were signs of what Shiro would look like when he was to be older, his father's eyes were not so wide like his and the corners had fine lines like tree roots that ran to his temples. Siegbert thought he must smiled very warmly.

He took a deep breath, “hello sir,” he greeted. Siegbert lifted his eyes and saw nothing in his expression but politeness and something else he did not know how to place. “My name is Siegbert, I’m one of Shiro’s friends.”

Shiro’s father inclined his head into a nod. “Hello Siegbert, you can call me Ryoma. Thank you for looking after Shiro,” he said. His long hair reached his lower back, falling thickly, outspread like a lion’s mane. He wore it unbound so that it moved freely in the wind.

Siegbert flushed. He had a very handsome voice, stern and deep, befitting his commanding presence. “No, he’s the one that looks after me.”

Ryoma’s eyes flickered to Shiro and Siegbert thought they crinkled at the corners. “Somehow I have a hard time believing that.” He looked closely at Siegbert then, “pardon me for asking, and I wonder if my intuition is off, but you look very much like someone I work with. Could you be related to General Xander?”

Siegbert blink not expecting his father to be brought up. “Y-yes, he’s my father,” he said.

Ryoma chuckled lightly and Sigebert, now positive, saw the crinkles deepen. “I thought you two looked very similar. I work with your father quite often. Our line of work has many intersections.” Siegbert said nothing so Ryoma continued, “Your father is the General of the Nohrian army is that correct Siegbert?” and when he nodded: “I work for the Hoshidan military.”

Shiro snorted, “more like he is the Hoshidan military. He’s some kind of big cheese there.” He put an arm around Siegbert and the tension in the air eased around them. “Guess that makes us the little cheeses, huh?”

Ryoma eyed Shiro, exchanging a slightly disapproving expression that Siegbert managed to catch but after a moment, Ryoma spoke to Siegbert, “your father is a great man.”

“Thank you, sir,” there was nothing else he could say but Ryoma's smile did not falter. Perhaps if he were smaller, Ryoma might have put a hand on his head.

“What're you doing here, dad?” Shiro said, boldly asking what Siegbert thought in his mind.

“I came to watch you play of course,” began Ryoma. “Benny called me to tell me you were playing today. My meeting ran a little late but I thought you’d still be here. You always did like to stay after a game. I’m sorry I missed it. Benny sent me the tape.” He smiled proudly, “you led the team well.”

Shiro grinned. “Thanks!” He looked boyish then, as any child would when praised by a parent.

“Are you going to be staying at home tonight?”

“Yes, the driver is waiting to take me back. I'll see you at home. Not too late I presume.”

“Whatever you say,” said Shiro.

Finally he turned to Siegbert. “It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Siegbert. I've heard wonderful things about you from both Xander and Shiro. Send my regards to General Xander and please take care of Shiro.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you as well,” said Siegbert. He was aware of the blandness of his responses, but could think of nothing else to say.

Ryoma left to the car waiting for him in the parking lot. The driver closed the door behind him and the car sped off, leaving Siegbert with Shiro on the field.

“Well, I'm starving,” Shiro said, he turned his back to the parking lot, walking in the opposite direction with his hands on the back of his head.

Siegbert caught up to him. “Your father seems very kind. A bit intimidating though.”

“What’s yours like?”

“Very much the same,” he admitted. But this was not what he wanted to ask. “I thought you haven't spoken to him about me before?”

“What? Of course I have,” he looked almost insulted that Siegbert had thought so.

“But when we were at Kiragi’s…,” he began.

“I never told him what we are but of course I've mentioned you. There's nothing to hide in that.” then when Siegbert smiled at him, “but after today, he kind of knows it all, doesn't he?” Shiro smirked impishly.

Siegbert flushed. “Do you think he saw us?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Probably.”

He did not want to take that as an answer. “Do you think he would care?” He said with urgency.

Shiro stopped, pulling Siegbert with him to a halt, holding him by the shoulders. Siegbert’s back dug into the pole of the upright, he shut his eyes, expecting the dull thud of his head hitting it as well. But it did not, Shiro had placed a hand behind his head, holding him so that no harm would come. When he opened his eyes, Shiro’s face was so close to him that their noses grazed against each other and he caught the mixture of sweat and dirt and something so sweetly Shiro in the air, it caused him to inhale.

“I do not care,” he said. He kissed him, catching Siegbert off guard so that when it was over he was gasping for air. Shiro gazed at him. He gazed back.

“Siegbert,” he said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched a couple rugby games for research and ohmygoodness what a thrilling sport! It seems to fit Shiro perfectly especially after seeing the animations for spear masters in Fates. Strong shoulders and thighs - I don’t know what else has that kind of power like rugby. I’m also happy to say that the next chapter will be the last for the main story of Cursive! Chapter 7 will be a scene I had to cut and 8 introduces the next story/couple set in this universe. The characters have already appeared and I’m so excited to get their story underway! I’ve also started playing Overwatch and I have a story (or two) in the initial planning process for that too. Lastly and most importantly, thank you as always to those that commented, subscribed, kudo’d, and bookmarked. Let’s finish this story together. We’re in the final stretch now! See you next time!  
> EDIT 12/28/2016: Had to add in a little scene that I cut in the beginning as well as some small edits to the story. It feels so weird to come back to a story after some time and realize how you can improve it. Thank you for continuing to read Cursive. I'm excited to do some writing again. I'll keep you all updated ^.^


	6. Chapter 6

Cursive

 

\-- Chapter Six--

 

Later that evening, Siegbert returned home. The lights were on though it did not surprise him, a maid or butler usually did their work while he was out. He made his way to his bedroom upstairs, ignoring the muffled clanging of pots and pans from the kitchen.

“I won’t need dinner tonight, Flora,” he called, halfway up the stairs. “I already ate with some friends. Thank you.”

“That’s a shame, I thought we could share a meal together.”

He stopped half-frozen between steps and when he was sure of the voice he had heard, Siegbert ran back down and into the kitchen.

“Father,” he said, his voice a little winded and up an octave.

“Hello Siegbert,” he said. He had unbuttoned the collar of his dress shirt and his blazer rested on the back of a chair. He went back to his work then, stirring a sauce that had begun to bubble when Siegbert entered. A cutting board had been pulled out and on it remained the ends of chopped vegetables.

“What are you doing here, father?” Siegbert asked but then he thought it unwelcoming. “I’m happy to see you,” he added.

His father was kind and wore no expression to make it seem like he thought that way of him. He said, “My meeting ended a bit later than I expected. I was going to pick you up from school so we could get dinner out but thought that maybe a meal a home would be a good idea.” He rubbed his hands dry on the violet towel thrown over his shoulder. “I was going to surprise you but I see you’ve already eaten. Did you go with Shigure after studying at the library?”

It was rare that his father assumed wrong. “Actually, I was at a rugby game with friends then we went out for dinner afterwards.”

“Rugby?” He lifted a brow. “That’s certainly new.”

“My friend Shiro is the captain so I watched him play,” he explained. “I met his father today, he said he works with you. Ryoma from Hoshido.”

His father picked up a pair of tongs and lifted the lid of a large pot. Steam began to waft into the air. He pulled out two lobsters, bright red, and boiled to perfection, setting them on the cutting board one after the other. 

“Ryoma? From Hoshido?” He put the tongs into the sink and reached below the pan in front of him, lowering the heat to a simmer. “I do recall him mentioning he had a son your age. Do you want tea, son?” He gestured to the kettle on the stove. “If you’re not hungry, how about a cup while we chat?”

“Yes sir.” His father had been away for six months, spending the time stationed in Gibraltar. Other than the occasionally letter and email, they rarely had any time to speak with one another. The house was too large and too quiet not to feel lonely without him. 

After the meal was plated, they moved their conversation to the dining table. His father asked him about the game and he said, “It was very entertaining. It’s an entirely different experience sitting in the stands and watching than viewing it on a television. Shiro played very well.”

His father’s hair was blond, golden in the right light. Siegbert did not remember seeing the grey before but they added to his features handsomely. Silver melted with gold. He tucked a curl behind his ear. “I’m glad,” he said. “In the time I’ve been away you’ve expanded your experiences and made new friends.” He sat back into his chair, lips slightly upturned. “Do you want to tell me about this Shiro?” He asked in a different voice.

The question surprised him and unwillingly, he flushed under the knowing in his father’s eyes. “Why would you think that?”

“Son, you’ve said his name twice already.”

His fingers wrapped around the cup, feeding the warmth into his hands. Was it possible to put in words all that Shiro was to him? To describe the way his eyes pierced the light when he was focused or the bloom of his cheeks when he laughed? He thought of the way his hair blew in the wind when he ran and the way his hands, calloused and warm would touch his own, steadying the world underneath his feet. He thought of when he would hear Shiro’s heart pounding and how he would press his ear against the solid muscles of his chest so that he may never forget the way it beat. Days would be lost trying to explain things that could only be felt with the heart.

Siegbert said to him, “he’s...a new friend of mine. The captain of the rugby team. I tutored him once, that’s how we met,” He thought for a moment, the words sounded without heart when Shiro was all that filled it. “He is strong in many ways. I am glad I met him.”

“He sounds very precious to you.”

“He is.” The room became quiet and a different air settled between them.

His father finished his meal and Siegbert poured a cup of tea, placing it in front of him, leaving the plates uncleared. “I never doubted Ryoma would raise such a son. I would like to meet him, he seems to have quite the influence on you. It is a shame I’m leaving again tomorrow.”

Siegbert had been staring at his cup. He looked up and his father was doing the same. “Again? Where are you going?”

“I have a flight leaving for Nepal tomorrow and I’ll be there until Christmas.”

“Christmas,” he repeated. It felt so far away.

There was understanding in his voice when his father spoke again. He inclined himself towards him and spoke with such apology that Siegbert felt his chest ache. “I’m sorry I’m not around so much, Siegbert.” No excuses came after for his absence. Even as a child, his father had never insulted him with empty promises of gifts and favours.

“I understand, father. You are needed elsewhere,” Siegbert said. He meant it honestly but even to himself the words sounded petty and childish.

“You are my son, Siegbert. I wish for nothing more than to watch you grow into the fine young man I see you are already becoming. I am so very proud of you.” He reached beside him, clapping a hand on Siegbert’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you’ve always had to be so selfless, my son. Should we go somewhere for the holidays? I made sure to book time off. Perhaps skiing like when you were a boy? It would be just us, or if you’d like, you can invite Shiro as well.”

He understood the difficulties on his father for being away so frequently and how it pained him. He understood too that he would never offer such an empty promise. Siegbert smiled and his eyes touched with rawness. “I would be happy to even spend time with you at home. I look forward to the holidays. I love you so very much, father.”

The tightness in his shoulders and the lines in his forehead disappear. He looked relieved. The hand on his shoulder squeezed lightly. “I love you too, son.” His father continued, “let us speak of what we have missed in each others lives. Would you like to start, Siegbert?”

He had proven himself not so eloquent with his words when collecting his thoughts about Shiro. Siegbert shook his head. “Please go first, father. I want to hear of your stories abroad.”

\---

The dimmed lights of the coffee shop caused him to squint, he could barely make out the faces of customers sitting on the far side of room. There were no customers in waiting, most of them having seated themselves at a table waiting for the performance to start. Daylight was much more fickle now, the days had passed into mid-November. Siegbert tilted the card in his hand so that it managed to catch the light by the cash register. The card was for Dwyer; today was his birthday.

Dwyer was hunched over at the back of the stage, fiddling with the power outlet for one of the speakers. Shigure stood at the center, adjusting the mic while making quick glances at the clock on the wall above them. Siegbert had already written ‘Happy Birthday Dwyer’ then thought to add something about enjoying the time they spent working together. He finished by signing his name at the bottom when the light above him grew brighter. 

He looked up, almost blinded by the bright light of the cell phone Shiro held in his hand. 

“Hey Siegbert,” Shiro said.

He closed the card. “Hello Shiro, finished with practice?” 

Shiro nodded, putting the phone back into his pocket. His visits became more rare as the playoffs continued. The team found little competition within the prefecture and they moved onto the next round, competing at the national level. Even in the low light, Siegbert saw dark circles under his eyes like bruises and the tenderness in which Shiro held his body, worn from extra practices.

He tore his eyes away from his exposed arms and gazed back into Shiro’s eyes. Siegbert fought back the urge to cup his face in his hand. To hold him, allow him to rest. He said, “You’ll catch a cold if that’s all you wear in this weather.”

Shiro smiled easily at him, unbothered by the chiding. “The breeze feels nice after practice. I don’t catch colds anyways.” He lifted the small box he clutched onto with his hand and brought it onto the counter.

“Is that the cake?” Siegbert said. “Thank you for bringing it over.”

“No problem. Asugi was happy to help.” He handed the box to Siegbert who put it in the fridge under the counter.

“Is he still coming? I thought he would be arriving with you.”

“He said he’d come later with Ignatius,” Shiro shrugged. He leaned his body over the counter, his arms resting beneath him. Siegbert notes that he did not do so heavily, the tender bruises on his arms made him cautious. “Is that for Dwyer?” He pointed to the card in Siegbert’s hands.

Siegbert nodded. “You should sign it, I’m sure Dwyer would appreciate it.”

“I guess, just ‘happy birthday’ will do, right?” He took the pen Siegbert offered him. Shiro wrote with surety, unphased by the lack of light, signing his name on the card before closing it and handing it back to him. “Hopefully he likes the cake, Asugi kept asking me about flavours and I had no idea how to answer him.”

“Yeah Shiro. ‘Good tasting’ was really helpful,” Asugi said from behind them. Ignatius followed, waving a shy ‘hello’ as they entered through the main door. 

“Speak of the devil,” Shiro smirked.

“And the devil shall appear,” Asugi waved graciously, almost dipping into a bow. “Did we miss anything?”

“Nope, right on time,” Shiro said. “Shigure’s about to start.” 

Asugi and Ignatius swiveled their heads to the stage. “Nice. Where’s the birthday boy?”

“Over there,” said Siegbert. Dwyer stood to the side of the stage, leaning against the wall, watching Shigure as he began his show.

The room quieted when Shigure tapped the mic. “Hello everyone,” his voice pleasant and welcoming. “Thank you for inviting me back. Today is my friend Dwyer’s birthday, should we sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him?” Shigure smiled warmly at Dwyer who tried to decline as politely and vehemently as possible but the singing had already begun, led by Shigure and followed by the rest of the room. 

Dwyer flushed, crossing his arms as he did when he was embarrassed. 

“I think he hates it,” Siegbert heard Ignatius say quietly.

Asugi clapped along in time with the song. “I think that’s the point.”

\---

After closing, the six of them gathered around the largest table, enjoying the cake prepared for Dwyer’s birthday. They forego plates, each settling with a fork without the need to create slices. Dwyer made them all coffee and tea to pair with it. He carried them to the table on a tray, deliberately giving Shigure’s his last. The cake made by Asugi was tiramisu with powdered sugar sprinkled on top. The ladyfingers around the border were made by Asugi as well. He even added a candle. 

Dwyer took a forkful for himself, inspecting it, keeping it balanced on his fork. “This is really well done.” He ate, pulling it out slowly between pressed lips, chewing. “You really made the ladyfingers yourself?” Then when Asugi nodded, “The taste is really good too. ”

“Glad you like it, Naps,” Asugi said. He ate little, his interest directed much more so to the coffee Dwyer had prepared. Asugi gestured to the cup. “This is pretty delicious itself.” 

“Thanks, if you want to know how to make it just ask,” Dwyer said, getting another forkful of the cake. “It’s a lot easier than making something like this.”

“I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer,” said Asugi. 

Dwyer paused for a moment, his eyes searching the ceiling as he thought. “Wait, I take that back.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll teach you to make coffee if you agree to bake for our new location. We could use a baker with your skills.”

“Like a legit job? Just to bake?” He put the cup back down onto the table. His eyes narrow and unconvinced.

Dwyer slouched into his seat. He regarded Asugi with a raised brow. “Yeah, have you never been employed before?”

Asugi flushed. “What, of course I have! I’ll take it! Give me the dough. Literally and figuratively.” He grinned at his own joke. Siegbert smiled politely but a quick glance around the table showed that he was the only one to do so. Ignatius looked almost disappointed.

“Tomorrow,” Dwyer said. “I don’t feel like dealing with the paperwork right now.” He yawned and went to refill his coffee by the machine, taking Asugi’s cup with him.

“Right? I’m so glad I get to sleep in tomorrow,” Shiro said. He stretched, yawning widely. The piece of cake on his fork fell to the table. Shiro picked it up with his fingers and brought it to his mouth, licking the cream off his thumb. Shigure shot a disapproving look and handed Shiro a napkin.

“Make sure to take it easy, Shiro,” said Ignatius. He took the refilled cup Dwyer held out to him and put it down on the table on top of a coaster. 

Leaning into Shiro, Siegbert said, “why do you need to take it easy?”

Shiro did not answer immediately, throwing a look to Ignatius instead. His lips pressed into a line but Shiro does not lie to him. “It’s nothing really, just a little banged up. I’ll ice it when I get home.”

Siegbert frowned. He could not imagine Shiro without his strength. He thought of this as the conversation shifted to something about ghosts and spirits. Ignatius’ face went pale while Asugi’s glowed, retelling a story he had read online. Siegbert listened halfheartedly much like Shiro who was finishing the cake, switching his fork to his left hand so that he could pat Ignatius’ back, crouched over with fear, with the right. 

The table was cleared by Dwyer and Siegbert while Ignatius, Shiro, Shigure, and Asugi rearranged the tables and dismantled the stage. The work finished quickly with all the extra hands so within an hour each of them had their jackets on, shivering slightly in the brisk Autumn air as they waited for Dwyer to lock the door behind them.

Other than Dwyer, they all had to walk to the train station to catch the last train. Siegbert pulled timidly on Shiro’s sleeve, slowing his pace so that Shiro walked beside him, farther back from Asugi who walked with Ignatius and Shigure. They were not so behind that Siegbert could not hear the song Shigure hummed softly as he walked ahead of them in an effort to settle Ignatius’ nerves. He stared at his hand on Shiro’s sleeve and how the cold turned his knuckles red. Shiro was aware of this, wrapping his own around it. He was warm. That would never change.

“Do you want to come over tonight,” he asked, voice cracking at the end. “I could give you a massage for your shoulder.” 

“Really? You know how to give massages?” Shiro asked in return. He said this slowly, hesitant over each word.

Siegbert said, “I learned about pressure points before. I know you can’t stop going to practices but if I can do something to make it easier for you, I would do anything.” His heart pounded so loudly he was afraid he’d miss what Shiro was to say next.

In the suspended silence, Siegbert met cool eyes cut from marble with his own. He laughed, slightly flushed, and his cheeks rose, so plump and sweet that Siegbert’s heart skipped. When he spoke, his voice was light and alive with colour. “If you’re inviting me, I’ll take you up on that. I’m in your hands.”

\---

Siegbert’s house was what Shiro expected, large, exquisite, and meticulously well managed. Double doors, more like a gate, opened before them displaying a long winding staircase that led up to the second floor. It reminded him of those romance novels Nina often liked to tell him about, where the lead descended down the stairs to a prom date, or a prince, or both in a fancy suit with a limo in waiting outside.

“You can put your things in my room upstairs,” Siegbert said. “Can I get you anything? Water or something to eat if you’re hungry.”

“No, I’m alright,” he said. He peeked around the corner to the archway that opened up to the kitchen. He found himself yawning. It was late, past midnight and he could feel his eyes grow dry. He squeezed them shut momentarily before following Siegbert upstairs, then to the left as Siegbert led him to his room. 

“Nobody home?” Shiro asked.

“Not usually. My father is on a business trip right now to Nepal,” said Siegbert. “He wrote a couple days ago. Would you like to know what he said?”

“Sure,” He loved it when he spoke with such eagerness. 

The footsteps which Siegbert landed became lighter. “He said the weather was rainy but nice. Last week, he went to one of the temples to see the monks that worshipped there. I think he liked it, he says I should go if I ever get a chance in the future.”

Shiro chuckled, “That’s great, Siegbert. Have you written him back?” 

“I’ve finished the rough draft.” Siegbert opened the door to his room. 

There was a little excitement as he peered inside, he had always been curious. His own was nothing special. Shiro spent so little time in it he had only his bed and a low table on the floor. It was supposed to be for homework but his rugby bag spent more time on it than any book had ever managed. 

His bed sat at the center, large and neatly made. An entire wall was lined with bookshelves, filled with thickly bound books and trophies. The other walls were almost entirely covered with framed awards and certificates. By the window was his desk - a closed laptop, a desk lamp, a picture of him with his father. 

Shiro points it out. “You look alike.” He waited for Siegbert to respond but he said nothing, turning himself to hide his face. The back of his neck coloured pink. 

He coughed and said, “you can put your things down anywhere you like.”

“Okay,” he answered. He walked inside, looking for a spot that would not be in the way and saw that Siegbert’s room was not restricted to the area only seen through the doorway. There were doors on either side, he saw Siegbert go right, into the bathroom. Shiro went to the other. 

Drapes covered a large window and in the center, an easel stood for painting. Scattered on the floor were papers and books of scenery and anatomy. Probably ones that would not fit on his bookshelves. He walked in front of the easel to see what Siegbert had been working on latest.

“Shiro?” Siegbert’s voice called from the bedroom. 

“In here,” he said, keeping his eyes on the canvas. He reached a hand out to touch it but pulled back unsure whether he would damage the painting. Shiro heard Siegbert’s footsteps and when he saw him standing in the doorway, he beamed. Siegbert’s eyes went from the canvas to Shiro and he held his body closely, his shoulders rounding inward. 

“I’ve been working on it from memory. It’s your home if you couldn’t tell.” His eyes were downcast but flickered to his face almost like he was afraid of his reaction. His voice was as soft as Shiro had ever heard it. He touched a hand to the edge of the paper, thinking of the time it had taken him. The careful lines to create the pillars, the serenity of his grandmother’s statue, and the colours he had mixed to mimic the ones of his home. Shiro’s heart quickened and when he spoke, he heard the brightness and pleasure in his voice.

“I can tell.”

They took turns in the bathroom, Shiro borrowing a towel and toothbrush. When he was finished, his face was slightly wet and the ends of his hair dripped with water. Siegbert sat on the bed, waiting for him, he had gotten a pillow out while he was inside. Shiro sat on the bed and Siegbert kneeled behind him, thighs pressed against his back.

“Where does it hurt?” Siegbert asked him. His hands rested lightly on Shiro’s shoulders.

Shiro touched to a spot on his shoulder, close to his neck. A shudder came when he felt Siegbert’s fingers pressing into his skin. 

“Here?”

He grunted a response, his head tucked into his chest. He closed his eyes, focusing on the steady pressure of Siegbert’s hands on him. Something tugged underneath his skin, the feeling was familiar to him. He focused on Siegbert’s touch, the silence doing nothing as he tried to push those thoughts out of his head.

There was nothing but the soft kneading of muscles. They continued like this, Shiro did not know how much time passed but as his muscles relaxed, so did the rest of his body. His breathing became deep and even. He closed his eyes more frequently and they held closed for longer lapses each time.

“Take off your shirt,” said Siegbert suddenly.

He was half asleep and his mind felt muddied. “Huh?”

Siegbert misunderstood his response and he stammered through his words. “It’ll be easier to get to the muscles. Here, lie down on the bed.” He fluffed a pillow for him. 

“Oh, right,” he had no reason to argue and even if he did he was too tired to do so. Shiro shrugged off his shirt lazily, tossing it onto the chair at Siegbert’s desk. He lay on his stomach, eyes up and forward, staring into the bed railings. Siegbert’s hands were on him, skin on skin, heat spreading from only where they connected with each other. Shiro turned his face to the side so he could watch Siegbert, fully dressed beside him. Initially, the bed looked so comfortable he thought he would collapse the moment he lay down. But when he laid down, the scent was impossibly sweet. Flowers and honey. It smelled like Siegbert.

“Feels good,” said Shiro, inhaling deeply into the pillow. “It’s enough Siegbert, you must be tired.”

“I’m not.” He loved his stubbornness. 

“It’s not so bad. I don’t have time to skip practices but as long as I don’t do anything stupid it should be fine. This helps a lot.” He reached a hand, finding Siegbert’s and giving it a squeeze. “You’re really good at this.” He paused. “And painting too. And schoolwork. Most things actually.”

“Shiro.”

“It’s true though,” he said before Siegbert could deny it. “Don’t believe me?”

He did not have to see his face to know the expression he wore. “Why do you say things like that?”

‘Like what’ he wanted to say but he knew it would get him nowhere. Instead he said again, “why don’t you believe me?”

Siegbert was silent, mulling over a response. He said, his voice so gentle Shiro could barely hear him, “I don’t understand. Why me when you’re you?”

Did there need to be a reason, he thought. Shiro relied on instinct, things in life came more easily when they are not overthought. Reckless, he had been called since before he could remember. He understood Siegbert enough to know this answer would not satisfy him. But is it still reckless, he thought, when he has never been more sure of anyone in his life? Then, with realization he spoke abruptly, “you understand everything I feel for you.”

He turned quickly, gazing at Siegbert. He gazed back, eyes wide, lips parted. When he spoke, his voice was steady. “You’ve never given me a reason to doubt you.”

There was that tug again just below the surface of his skin, this time more difficult to ignore. “That’s enough.” He flipped to his side, propping himself up on his elbow. A grin and he patted the space next to him. Siegbert adjusted himself into the bed. They spoke with voices coarse from the late night. Low and quiet murmurs that filled the minute space between them. 

“Should we sleep?” Siegbert asked him. 

“I’m not tired anymore.” 

“You look like you were just about to.” 

“Not when everything smells like you,” Shiro said. They gazed at one another, their noses almost touching. Siegbert shivered as his breath touched his skin, his eyes turned downward, exposing the pale pink of his eyelids. Shiro lay blissfully gazing, admiring the long, blond lashes, thickly curled and waited for them to lift back up to him. “I’m crazy about you.”

He leaned in, closing the distance between them to that he could silence any words of doubt and questioning with a kiss. Siegbert kissed him back wholly, he had a way of kissing that always seemed unsure, gentle was not the right word, but giving like he wanted Shiro to have the world. 

Siegbert pulled their bodies closer and he jumped a little in surprise when he felt the pads of Siegbert’s fingertips pressed into his back. The sheets tangled between their legs, both of them sat up, allowing their hands to explore each other’s bodies relentlessly.

He felt Siegbert’s hand trace over his chest, his thumb brushing over a perked nipple. He followed with his eyes, seeking lower until they smoothed over his abdominals and the fine hairs that lend down from his bellybutton. Siegbert found his hands, cupped on their side of his face, and held him delicately by the wrist. He knew with certainty that Siegbert could feel the heavy throbbing of his pulse. He lifted his hands away then brought them to the front of his shirt.

“Can I,-”

Siegbert nodded, his cheeks flushed and Shiro found he could barely control his breaths. He swallowed hard and went to unbutton the frustratingly small buttons. He found his hands shaking and when the shirt was open he caught the first glimpses of Siegbert’s pale stomach. The lines were much more subtle, unlike his own, but strong and beautifully masculine, cut with the finest attention to detail. Shiro rained down kisses like petals from lips to jaw to neck drawing out noises from Siegbert that Shiro promised he would never allow himself to forget. 

They were both panting. The air became heavy with sweetness and sweat. He did not care, it felt so human and raw, planting kisses on skin, making sure there was nowhere he left untouched or unappreciated. Suddenly, Siegbert forced him down onto the bed, never fully breaking apart from him. He positioned his body on top of him, straddling him between his legs. His face dipped down, enveloping him under a blanket of golden curls. Siegbert touched him, a hand fluttering at the corner of his jaw and the kiss became deeper. A bite of the lip. Then a pull and Siegbert’s mouth opened so that he could taste the candied sweetness of his tongue.

“Siegbert,” he said, voice husky from pleasure. He tasted like warm honey. More. He opened his mouth to him, tongues and lips clumsy and eager. A shudder ran down his back. 

More. Shiro kicked off his sweatpants as Siegbert undid his belt he wore. He moved quickly, excitement fueling his movements so that his haste rewarded him with the sight of Siegbert removing his slacks, shyly but sharing in the same eagerness he found in himself. 

He held himself as still as possible, watching as Siegbert carefully and deliberately removed his boxers in front of him. He was completely exposed, kneeling on the bed, gazing down at him. Shiro’s eyes were ceaseless as he tried to memorize his body and he swallowed hard, finding himself dizzy. As gently as he could, Shiro reversed their roles, lying Siegbert down onto the bed, their eyes looking nowhere else but at each other. 

Shiro touched him, a light hand to Siegbert’s inner thigh and he made a small sound of surprise that struck Shiro in the heart. He drew his hand closer, moving to the juncture of where thigh met his pleasure and took him by the hand. Siegbert trembled at the slight touch. Shiro held him, one hand gathered around his his wrist by his head, the other making sweet and gentle motions to grant Siegbert the greatest pleasure. Siegbert had a rhythm he liked, his hips would buck urging Shiro to continue. 

“Shiro,” he heard him say, he arched his back and forced his legs apart wider. Siegbert reached for him, a hand tangled in his hair. Shiro shifted himself lower, bringing himself down between Siegbert’s thighs. He held his thighs apart, exhaling hot breath on the inner thigh, pleased when he heard the hitch in Siegbert’s breathing. He inched closer, dragging his tongue onto the soft skin, feeling Siegbert’s hand grasp tightly in his hair, almost pulling as he went up the shaft and stopping at the tip. Shiro held him in his hand and pushed his tongue against the slit, tasting the sweetness of his sweat and salt. He heard the first sounds of Siegbert’s pleasure and continued, ignoring his own arousal pressing firmly against the bed. 

There was too much unexplored, too much unfamiliar to him. He could not stop touching him. It was a wildness he had never experience. Shiro ran a hand along his thigh and his tongue drew a wet circle around the tip, suckling, and went down to take him all in his mouth. He could hear the hitches of Siegbert’s breath and the soft noises of pleasure that escaped his throat. When he ran his mouth back up and away, a string of saliva and salt connected them. Shiro looked up and found Siegbert with his head turned to the side, the back of his neck glistening with sweat. 

He continued on, fueled by the sight of Siegbert writhing in front of him on the bed, enjoying each muscle flexed and tremor of breath. His hand found the right rhythm and with an arch of the back, Siegbert climaxed with a shudder, spilling himself onto Shiro’s stomach.  
“I’m sorry,” Siegbert panted. Shiro felt quite pleased with himself, able to bring Siegbert to such a state. He watched Siegbert’s chest rise and fall after his climax and lifted a hand to brush Siegbert’s cheek where the flush was the most prominent.

“Don’t be,” he answered. They kissed sweetly, Siegbert’s lips reaching for him as he wrapped his limbs around him. Shiro sensed the exhaustion in his body, he lay down next to Siegbert, feeling blissful.

“I want to do the same to you,” said Siegbert. His breathing had returned to normal but he looked tired, his forehead glistened with sweat. 

Shiro chuckled, “it’s okay, there will be other times if you still want to.” He could not completely ignore his own arousal but Siegbert looked so exhausted, he did not want to disturb him. Shiro laid on his back, staring at the ceiling when Siegbert took it upon himself to sit up. 

“What are you-,” he began then he saw Siegbert’s hand at his own backside, his face taut with concentration. With the realization he pushed out a response. “You don’t have to,” he stammered, unbelieving. He saw a finger slide inside him. “I mean, I’ve thought about it but you don’t-,” another finger.

“It’s what I want too,” said Siegbert, his voice strained and controlled with considerable force. “I’ve been practicing.”

He watched Siegbert and the minute expressions of his face, each tremble and breath taken. Even if they did not go farther, it would be enough for him. Shiro’s breathing shallowed. His own fists balled up in the sheets. Shiro found he could watch no longer. He wanted Siegbert. He bent at the waist, sitting up so that he could kiss Siegbert. Again, he laid him down on the bed, his legs spread above him, resting on his shoulders. Siegbert gazed at him, heavy lidded. He wanted to feel for himself. He slid a finger inside and saw Siegbert’s body jump a little at the initial shock and finally, found Siegbert’s body opening up to him. 

Shiro leaned down and they were kissing again, deeply, mouths opening up to each other. He slid another finger inside taking pleasure as Siegbert’s mouth opened into a gasp so that he could slip in his tongue. He never imagined it would be so tender. He broke their kiss apart, placing soft ones on Siegbert’s neck that he seemed to enjoy so much and felt as Siegbert did the same, planting soft, careful kisses on his shoulder. 

In a gasping breath he said, “I want to be inside you.” He slid his fingers out, bringing them to his lips to taste. Siegbert took his hand in his own, taking his fingers in his mouth. Shiro felt Siegbert’s tongue around him, the simple idea of it made him dizzy. He ran them along his tongue, exploring the pointed tips of teeth and took them out once they were covered with saliva back to where he was hot and hard.

“Yes.” Siegbert lifted his legs and guided Shiro between them.

Shiro breathed deeply and pressed the tip against him. Just the action caused his body to tremble. He slid in guided by the reaction of Siegbert’s body. The arched back, the shut eyes, he almost stopped. Perhaps this was too painful for him. But it was not only himself leading in but Siegbert’s hand that guided him until he was completely inside of him. They stayed motionless, the weight of what was happening consuming them. Shiro was inside of him. It was Siegbert that began, bucking his hips, drawing out shallows breaths and husky moans.

He allowed himself to move slowly, his breaths became shaky, feeding off the moans Siegbert uttered so gently. He placed a hand under his calf, the other on his waist and moved in slow, gentle thrusts. 

He said his name. Harder. He was panting. Each thrust bringing him closer to climax. Shiro felt his legs giving, the idea of what was happening almost too much for him. “Siegbert,” he panted. They moved in motion with each other, each thrust coming with more urgency. Their faces came together, too clumsy for a kiss. Breaths hot and panting into neck and shoulder.

“Shiro,” Siegbert said, his voice coming out breathless and strained.

“Siegbert,” he said again. It came out more like a grunt. He put his full weight on Siegbert and their world became a mesh of incoherent sounds of pleasure, speaking each other’s names so that only sounds became of them. He felt it coming up from somewhere deep inside of him. Siegbert too, lifted his hips, his lower back leaving the bed as the thrusts became deeper, each touching undiscovered regions.

“I’m can’t-,” he thrust deeply, a cry coming from Siegbert. He came first, spilling inside of him. He sat back on his heels, he was sticky and sweaty. The room perfumed with their smell in the air. Siegbert came afterwards in a hot burst, his head tilted back as their bodies came down, and Shiro found his stomach sticky. Shiro slowly pulled out of him, he collapsed on the bed next to Siegbert. He wore a lazy smile, gazing at Siegbert who gazed back shyly, face still red and flushed. 

\---

Shiro woke with Siegbert’s blankets around his waist. The light outside barely broke into the room and he was warm. The room lingered with the smell of the night before. Siegbert was awake next to him, lips curved into a smile watching him wake. 

“Good morning,” he said. His voice was hoarse, he coughed to clear it.

“Good morning,” Siegbert said. The blanket was gathered in his hands, held up to his chest. He left a shoulder exposed and Shiro took pleasure in seeing he was still undressed. “Do you want some water?” He made motions to get up but Shiro caught him by the wrist.

“No, I’m fine. Stay here,” Shiro said, stroking his thumb against Siegbert’s palm. He grinned helplessly as Siegbert gathered himself back in bed. He wrapped an arm around his waist under the blanket, grinning widely, feeling Siegbert’s skin warm against his touch. “Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?”

“There isn’t,” Siegbert’s eyes were warm, dancing as they looked at him. Under the blanket Siegbert’s hands found his and their fingers intertwined knowingly. “I’m going to tell my father about us,” said Siegbert after moment. “I can’t imagine-,” he shook his head like he was searching for words. He cupped Shiro’s face in his hand, his thumb tender over his bottom lip. “Shiro.” He said his name like it was something precious. 

“Siegbert.” Their lips met in sweet kisses until Shiro put himself on top of him. His eyes a little bewildered when he felt Siegbert was just as aroused as he was under the blanket.

He laughed shyly. “We are both awake, I take it,” he said, flushing. His arms twined around Shiro’s neck and his legs wrapped around him. Shiro threw the blanket above their heads and they laughed.

\---

By early December, the coffee shop fully embraced the Christmas theme. Jakob even had the ridiculous notion of having them wear santa hats on shift. There was little Siegbert could say or do to this but because of exams, he had so little shifts that he dismissed this small amount of embarrassment as just another part of the job. He assumed the university was in exam season as well, he would find himself regularly informing patrons they were closing only to be greeted by confused responses and apologies followed by ‘I didn’t know it got so late’. 

He worked quietly, the Christmas songs on repeat had long become white noise to him. Dwyer was on the other side of the counter, wiping down a table where a toddler had accidentally spilt hot chocolate. Siegbert frowned a little. Dwyer and Jakob were well into the process of opening up their second location. The location was set deep in Hoshido; with Asugi’s help the new place incorporated a lot of traditional Hoshidan baked goods. If they were met with success, the most popular items would find a place here as well. 

Dwyer had brought him to the new location in the midst of their renovation. It was smaller than where they worked currently or perhaps it was because of the equipment and workers that made him think so. But the ceilings were high and the location was good and Jakob seemed to love it. He was there as well and he asked Siegbert to help with interviewing new employees. The idea was funny to him. He remembered clearly being in their place, wide eyed and nervous, sitting in front of an interviewer praying to be asked questions he had rehearsed the answers to.

Siegbert brought down the chalkboard menu and looked at the list of new drink items to be added for the holiday season. He quickly erased the old writing and washed the board with water, thinking to wait for it to dry while he drafted out colour and border ideas. The door swung open bringing in a brisk draft into the coffee shop. He watched Shiro come up to him, bundled in a jacket and scarf. The exposed skin of his nose and cheeks slightly red from the cold. 

“Welcome Shiro,” said Siegbert. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Shiro asked. He unwound the scarf and pressed his face into it, sighing deeply. When he pulled away his face was slightly wet and his eyes shone brightly, gathering the scarf tightly in his hands. 

“New item menu for the holidays,” he said, showing him the sheet of paper Jakob had given him. 

“Have I ever told you you had nice writing?” He laughed lightly, his eyes meeting Siegbert’s. They were even more startling in winter, the cold bringing out the grey. Shiro folded the scarf, crudely and put it into his bag. He still used his gym bag though the rugby season had ended. They made it all the way to the semifinals of the national competition. Shiro specifically was picked up to play at the university in the coming Spring. “Are you excited for next week?”

He was smiling. “Yes, my father said to dress warm. Are you?”

“Can’t wait,” Shiro said. “It’s been awhile since I’ve left the city for something other than rugby. I’ve never skied before so you’ll have to teach me.”

“Of course,” he said eagerly. His father had booked time off for a week’s trip to the family’s winter cabin and Shiro agreed to accompany them. Siegbert thought of it excitedly, already having scheduled their days in his notebook. 

Shiro was gazing at him when he pulled himself away from those thoughts and he found himself with a foolish grin, gazing back. Siegbert took the board and stood it upright on the counter so that it was tall enough to cover their faces. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, last chapter of the main story! Thank you for joining me on this wonderful summer journey! It’s not entirely over, next chapter is a scene I had to cut and the one after sets up the story for the next couple in this universe. I’m going to be going back to University starting September but I plan to have both the chapters finished before then so I can wrap this up nice and neat.  
> Thank you so much to all those that commented, kudo’d, bookmarked, subscribed, and viewed. This was my first multi-chapter fic and the only reason it was finished was because of the wonderful support I’ve received from all of you.  
> See you next chapter or if you want to talk between that time I’m on tumblr -> http://r48j72kd.tumblr.com  
> Best of luck to all those going back to school in September!


	7. Chapter 4 (bonus)

_Cursive_

 

_\-- Chapter Four & a Half -- _

 

Shiro couldn’t sleep. His eyes had long since adjusted to the light and he could make out, quite clearly the sleeping forms of those beside him. He flipped onto his back, restless. A hand behind his head as he looked to the ceiling, the other on his stomach under the blanket. The room was filled with the steady breaths of the sleeping children. He closed his eyes, listening for Siegbert’s and found that even his breathing was gentle.

He thought back to a couple days ago when he and Asugi were at the canteen buying lunch. It rained that day, as it had been for the last two, a downpour in the mornings that turned into a drizzle by late afternoon. Shiro’s usual lunch consisted of a meat bun, curry bun, and red bean for dessert. Asugi favoured the sweet ones, rotating daily between red bean, custard, and chocolate. That day, Siegbert had a student council meeting so they ate by the window near their favourite vending machine instead of on the rooftop. Territorial, Nina had accused them of once. Shiro was staring out the window, watching the rain drench the field, hoping it would end before practice. He did not mind the mud and the dirt but every time he went to see Siegbert at the cafe the boss would turn up his nose like he was a giant dog.

He sighed and glanced at Asugi, casually thumbing over articles on his phone with a sucker in his mouth. He sighed again.

“Can I do something for you, Shiro?” Asugi did not look at him but his eyes lifted like he had rolled them.

“It’s raining,” he said, monotonously.

“So? I can’t do anything about that.” He rotated his phone to the side and a video began to play.

Shiro groaned. He turned and slid down to the floor, kicking his feet out in front of him.

“It’ll clear up soon,” said Asugi, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Then after practice, you’ll visit Siegbert and you can tell him all about how I put up with your complaining during lunch when he wasn’t around.” His words slurred with the sucker still in his mouth. 

He made a small sound of amusement, keeping his eyes on the floor.

From the end of the hall, he heard the sound of a group of students walking by and instinctively looked up. They were younger than them, second years from the blue trim on the skirts of their uniform. He turned back to the window uninterested but noticed Asugi had been watching them as they passed. The sound of the rain filled their silence and Shiro bit slowly into the curry bun, watching as rain droplets hit the window, picking two and racing them across the pane.

“What’s it like,” Asugi spoke after some time had passed. “With a guy, I mean.”

He found he could not look his friend in the eye. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Thought I’d ask.”

Shiro stood awkwardly and rested his elbow against the window ledge, burying his chin into the knitted sleeve of his cardigan. He could feel his ears turn red. “You don’t just ask these things,” he murmured into his sleeve.

“Really, I can’t imagine the appeal.” He brought a hand to the sucker and twisted the stick. It was a nervous habit Asugi had never really been able to get rid of.

He understood, not long ago he never would have thought about it himself. Now, all that consumed him was the half mast eyes, a deep brown gazing back at him with flushed cheeks and the long lashes that curled around them, tickling his cheek when he went to nibble his ear. He wanted to feel the rapid beating of Siegbert’s heart beneath the slender muscles of his chest and reach below his stomach, between his legs to find fine golden hair.

Shiro opened his eyes, taking him back to the darkness of the theatre room in Kiragi’s house. He realized with a flush that his hand had moved underneath his shorts. It was hopeless. Shiro got up from the futon as quietly as he could and headed for the bathroom. 

Floors creaked quietly as he walked by the kitchen barefooted to the guest bathroom. Though he was already quite a distance away from the sleeping trio, he acted as silently as he could, lifting up the sliding door of the bathroom a fraction of an inch to slide it open and slipping himself inside, locking the door behind him.

The bathroom was small and meticulously designed just like the rest of the house. A low stool sat in front of a shower head and a large window overlooked the open forest when one were to sit in the rectangular bathtub. The entire room was covered in a dark tile. In the corner, a small green plant was placed on top of a table with a basket of hand towels. Shiro slumped down onto the cold tile resting his back against the bathtub, pushing his hair back with his hand, squinting at the bright ceiling light as he tilted his head back, taking himself back to his conversation with Asugi.

“I didn’t really either," he had answered finally. "But if you want to know what it’s like, I can’t help you there. We haven’t done anything."

Asugi fixed him with a look. “You haven’t--,”

“--no.” 

“What about--,”

“--nope.”

He arched a brow. “Even--,”

“No.” He blushed furiously. 

“But you’re both guys, you should know how to--,”

“Stop.” He laughed, shaking his head from side to side.  

Asugi seemed to be holding his tongue. He stared at Shiro, chewing his bottom lip until he said, “why not?”

Shiro pressed his palms into his forehead. “Hasn’t been the right time I guess.” This was all so incredibly awkward, he thought. “It’s fine,” he said a little too sharply and flinched when he saw thin lips press together in a smirk, bracing himself as he balanced on the blade of Asugi’s silver tongue.

“Scared you won’t like what you find?”

He frowned now as he did then. Already half hard, he had slid his boxers and shorts off beside him. Shiro breathed out, long and slow as he spread his legs slightly apart and felt the pulsing thickness between his legs. He thought of the soft inner thighs hiding lean muscle and how when he squeezed them, they would flex against his hand with a shudder. Siegbert had arched his back into his chest, exposing his throat and grabbed a fistful of Shiro's hair, causing a current to run through him. His heart beat quickly and he squeezed his eyes shut. It did not take long and Shiro found himself slightly flushed, his cheeks warm, breathing laboured, and his hand sticky.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” he said to himself.

After cleaning himself off, he dressed quickly and stood to glance at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was tousled and his eyes much too bright, matching the lingering redness of his flushed face.

In the darkness, he used his hand to guide himself back to the theatre room. The task was not a difficult one, he had known this house for years, as well as his own. From the bathroom he knew if he reached a hand out he would find the dent where Kiragi accidentally threw a baseball through the wall on Children’s Day. His uncle had spent the rest of the afternoon patching up the hole.

Back in the theatre room, filled with sounds of even breaths and the hum of the heater, he stopped to gaze at Siegbert’s sleeping form. The blanket lay listlessly underneath his arm, he slept on his side, feet tucked underneath him. He had a wide forehead, handsome and regal but his face was angelic with the sort of delicacy that tugged at Shiro's heart and there lay a sweetness from the transparency of all the emotions that painted across from it. His exposed hand curled so that his thumb and index fingers touched and with a muffled chuckle, Shiro thought he looked like he was holding a pencil.

He titled his head and his brows furrowed slightly. Not a pencil, Shiro thought, lips quivering into a grin. Maybe a brush. 

He lingered only a little longer. Shiro passed by the sleeping forms of Forrest and Kiragi and slipped inside the futon, carefully lifting the blanket so as to not disturb Kiragi and his mess of sprawled out limbs. Tiredness overcame him and he slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written months ago but when I finished Ch.4, I had to cut it out as I wanted to end on Siegbert’s perspective. I apologize for how long this took to get out, I didn’t realize how busy I would be with school. Thank you as always for your support! It’s been a long time hasn’t it? 
> 
> Chapter 8 is coming soon. It’s been awhile since I’ve thought about writing so putting my thoughts into actual words has felt a little off but there’s really no other way to shake off the rust right? hehe I’m not sure if it’ll be ready by the end of the year so I’ll wish you all a Happy New Year now! May your 2017 bring you as much “Life” and “Love” as Yuri did for Victor ;)


	8. Espresso : Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ship is NilesxSubaki in case you wanted to skip it ;)

Espresso

 

_\-- Prologue --_

 

There were two long couches meant for large groups to sit and chat by the fireplace. They were comfortable and the cushions so spongy that it was impossible to get up without using the arm rests. The electric fireplace connected to the ceiling crackled with fire, illuminating the cafe with a warm orange light. Five other tables were placed sporadically around the fireplace made of dark stained wood with four-legged chairs to match. There was a loveseat that faced the window he had never cared for.

When Subaki first entered the cafe after his classes, a cluster of customers were already gathered in front of the till. Mostly workers casually spending their break waiting for coffee, it left the tables empty and he was free to choose where he would sit for the next few hours.

Today, he did not want to start working immediately. He felt a sense of gratitude for the long line.

Eventually, with drink in hand, he settled into the most isolated corner of the cafe. He piled his things onto the table and proceeded to unpack his bag. The spot he chose was hidden from patrons entering the cafe and just barely lit by the fireplace. He chose this, not for just the isolation, but because it was nearest one of the sparsely available outlets. He imagined most employees probably took their break here. Trying to settle in, he removed his laptop, notebook, and pencil from his bag and seated himself wedged into the corner, his arm pressing into the wall beside him.

Opening the laptop and inputting his password, the screen lit the display for his current project. He did not want to look at it. Subaki slipped the pencil between his fingers, his thumb casually running over the ridges on the side. His fingers, long and slender glided effortlessly over the keyboard, opening tabs for music, news, and emails.

Over the speaker system, a low pulsating beat painted the cafe with a modern upbeat sound. He did not care for the music they played usually. Only in the night did one of the employees play music he actually enjoyed. The employee was a serious looking soft-spoken boy Subaki would typically greet whenever he entered the cafe. He had the most delicate handwriting Subaki had ever seen. The first time he had come into the cafe, the boy had quietly asked for his name and written it so beautifully on his cup that he saved a picture of it on his phone.

It was much later that he realized this same boy was the one that filled the cafe with the lovely music one would only be able to hear if they stayed until closing. He thought of one day asking for his playlist but the boy looked so dearly meek he thought he would begin to cry behind the counter had he ever tried to start a conversation. He had noticed since the fall however, that the boy was frequently visited by another, broad shouldered and lively, and their interactions so pure he felt like he was intruding just by being in their presence.

The employee that made his drink was not that boy but the one Subaki knew to be the boss’ son if not because of his tall height but in the similar fashion they brew their coffee.

When he entered the cafe, the sun had been high and after filtering through his emails, lukewarm replies pertaining to group projects and meetings, he had sufficiently wasted an hour of his time. A lingering winter had shorten the days so that the sun was already low in the sky and hidden behind plentiful clouds. He had put his phone away earlier on the table, flipping it so that the back cover faced up and the flashing notification light would not distract him. He picked it up finally to reply, again with lukewarm affection. _I’m studying, what are you doing? I’ll see you tomorrow._ And _let’s grab coffee next week._

But enough time had been wasted and with a deep sigh he turned back to his laptop and switched tabs to his current assignment. As a fifth year, having taken a year off to partake in an internship, Subaki was near completing his bachelor of architectural studies. The internship had come as a recommendation from one of the top professors in the University who particularly enjoyed having him in her class. He was not too vocal during lectures, but he was punctual, focused, and tactfully used office hours bringing prepared questions. Even the advisors enjoyed him, his assignments were organized and famously easy to mark. As a student, he was flawless and adored by his classmates and professors.

When he finished his internship, the employer had already offered him a job after graduation. The return to classes was supposed to be an easy transition. He was in his final semester and all his courses were options or research that had carried over from the previous fall. It left his days flexible enough to work a part time job at a flower shop near his home.

He was clever and so severely hardworking that he kept his struggles with the junior level photography class a secret. Just the mere thought of this supposed GPA booster was headache inducing. It was humiliating. At times he wanted to drop the course if not for the professor.

He was a short man with thick fingers and a pot belly. His nose was too large for his face and his lips were thin and always chapped. His lectures seemed to drag on and on but his eyes, Subaki thought, his eyes were remarkable. What he saw through the lens, what he captured on film, each a jewel on its own but together they created a work of art that weaved a story that could be felt through the heart. But he was also critical and demanding and so very severe that his classmates had vehemently warned him against taking the class. But he had not believed him and was here now besides himself with grief.

After presenting a draft of his latest set of photographs he watched the professor's face twist in a rather ugly manner as he attempted to find the words to critique his work. His eyes narrowed causing his already large nose to seem larger and he combed through the images like none had caught his eye. “It’s too perfect,” he had said and Subaki with genuine disbelief stared at him with his mouth slightly open before recognizing his rudeness and collecting himself enough to ask how anything could be too perfect. And the reply he was given was, “it is just too perfect in a way that does not move my heart.” Then he had left that small, cramped office in a daze until he wound up here at the cafe, on one hand with a great loathing of how his work had been disregarded and on the other, a great adoration for this ugly man with the remarkable eyes.

Subaki scrolled through the images. Each had been meticulously taken with permission from his boss during a quiet hour of his shift at the flower shop. Each petal he had arranged carefully and sprayed with water before the shot then selected from multiple images. Afterwards, they were adjusted using an image editing software he had used previously in his design classes. Should not his effort at least moved him?

He drank from his cup, tasting on his tongue the bitterness of the brew, welcoming it down his throat. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, staring intently at his pictures, attempting to find just what made each so perfect and what too much so. The process infuriated him and with the warmth emitted from the fireplace and coffee, he removed his outer jacket so that he was clothed in only a thin turtleneck shirt. It was Spring but the weather clung so dearly to the cold that he had worn gloves and a scarf the day before.

Doubt had begun to plague him. “Should I start the whole thing over?” He murmured to himself. It was the final project of the semester and he had enough time to scrap the entire album. But if he made the same mistakes, the entire process would have been pointless.

As a new wave of customers came into the cafe, it signaled to him the end of the hour and Subaki had grown hungry. He rose quickly, taking his phone and wallet with him and left his isolated corner seat to queue up for a refill of his coffee and a pastry to eat. Really, he just needed time away from his computer. Subaki pressed his temples with his fingers, his gaze lifting to supervise his belongings and falling back to his phone as he waited idle in the line up.

Within several minutes he had received his order. The cafe had recently begun incorporating a wide variety of pastries alongside their drink menu much to the delight of customers. The owner was rumoured to be in the early stages of renovating a new, larger location to accommodate the growing demand of customers.

Subaki ate once back at his table, not yet ready to continue with his work. From the mass of faces and bodies in the queue he picked out the figure of a familiar regular. He appeared to be in his early forties, handsome with an air surrounding him as if he knew he was so. Pertaining to the cold, he wore heavy brown boots while the rest of him was covered in black. A navy scarf draped around his neck, so large it covered his shoulders. For months, this man had stopped by the cafe and each time as if on queue Subaki would look up from whatever he was working on at the time to see him coming from the door.

Hidden in his little corner, he fixedly stared at the man waiting for his order by the pick up window. And for the first time, he realized the man wore an eyepatch over his right eye. Did he want to know him? No, he held no such complex thoughts. To him, he was another regular at his favourite cafe. Without warning, the man turned and stared right back at him, the action so shocking to him that he was paralyzed for a brief moment before scrambling to grab something, anything to make it seem as though he had not been staring.

He did not dare look up for fear of meeting the eye of the man again. So stunned, he had not even acknowledged the colour. Subaki closed his eyes. The man would leave, he thought. And I would never look at him again. But this comforting idea soon left him. However heavy his boots were, the man walked so silently Subaki did not realize he approached his table until he saw the tips of those brown boots in front of him. Still, he did not raise his eyes. He felt the weight of the man settle into the chair next to him and his body became rigid.

The man only sipped his drink. He did not take out his phone or have a book with him but rested a large unopened bag on the table in front of him. Daringly, he stole a glance at the man, seeing his shoulders turned towards him but instead of meeting his gaze, the man was staring at his laptop. What surprised him was the blatant way he looked at Subaki’s work. Subaki’s fingers hovered over his track pad and he looked at the name on the drink, rather deliberately and inconspicuously hoping the man would reflect on to his own rudeness.

The man’s name was Niles and he decided that this Niles was an extremely rude human being.

There was no indication that this man would leave and his stare left him feeling completely exposed. As it was, he had no intention of letting this man do whatever he pleased.

“Are you interested in my pictures, Niles?” Subaki smiled his most practiced smile.

Niles, who was still been rudely staring at his laptop jerked upwards at Subaki’s voice. His neck inclined, exposing the angular cut of his jaw and he held his gaze, wordlessly staring at Subaki. Blue. His eye was blue. He turned back to his cup, dipping it so he could see his name written rather messily on the side then back at Subaki with an unapologetic shrug.

“How to put it,” Niles began and his voice was smooth and careless. “They’re so completely inorganic I don’t know what to say.”

“Inorganic,” Subaki repeated, frowning slightly. “You’re mistaken, these flowers are real.”

A finger wavering vaguely between the images in the folder and Niles said, “yeah, I got that. I meant they looked so artificial you shouldn't have bothered.”

Subaki, who had his head resting in his hand faltered into a motionless stare at Niles. The words were said so offhandedly yet they cut straight to his heart that he found himself frightened. It was not so much that this stranger had so simply put what he had struggled with all day. It was his complete acceptance of the words said to him and how stupid it made him seem. He found himself agreeing with him undoubtedly. What he did not understand was whether they were done out of kindness or malice.

The latter was easier to believe.

“You a photography major?” Niles said and he raised a brow with a lopsided grin as if to say, _with work like this_. And any shred of kindness Subaki would have ever assumed Niles to be capable of disappeared into something much more cold and intolerable, just shy of hatred.  
  
“Architectural studies,” Subaki said with a hiss. He thought of closing his laptop and leaving the cafe. He thought too of explaining how this class was an option, one of many that he could’ve chosen to take but even in his head it sounded desperate and pathetic. Instead he said, “Are you a critic or something? Just my luck to run into someone as pretentious as you.”

“Lucky for you you met me before submitting these shit pictures,” said Niles plainly. He said nothing for a moment, watching as the queue diminished in front of them. He held his cup loosely in his hand and his ankle rested on his knee in an almost exaggerated depiction of ease. “By the way, I’m not a critic. I’m a photographer.”

“That’s quite an unbelievable lie to tell a stranger,” Subaki scoffed. “What are you hoping to achieve saying something like that?”

Niles mocked offense. “I didn’t lie at all. You’ve just met me and you already assume the worst. Makes me regret sitting here.”

Lies. Nothing honest would come from this man's mouth.

“Why are you here?” Subaki whispered angrily. He looked around the cafe that had settled with a quietness that came with the night. “You could’ve sat anywhere else yet you chose here.”

“You were the one who was staring at me.” And when Niles saw that Subaki could say nothing to deny the fact he began to unclasp the buckle of his bag, pulling out a laptop of his own. “I can show you my work if you don’t believe me.”

He did not believe him. But then again, he could not imagine Niles working comfortably in an office. He waited for Niles to open his laptop and he did so in a remarkably slow pace. Niles’ fingers brushed over the surface of the lid, his thumb teased the edge threatening to lift it. It raised by a fraction and stopped. Then Niles goaded Subaki with a teasing look. His eye narrowed and hidden crinkles bloomed at the corner. “Well well well, you are interested.”

Subaki almost laughed out loud. “You criticize my work and offer to show your own only to hold back at the last moment. If anything, this conversation has been a complete waste of my time.” He said sharply. “Next time don’t bother coming over here.”

Niles let out a low laugh and opened his laptop. Fiddling with the folders he opened a gallery of images. Photographs in black and white, men and women in the nude. Each image, one after another posed so sensually that he felt as if each couple were lovers and each individual shot a lover of his own. Subaki was stunned. A man holding a woman. Her back exposed with his lips touching her shoulder. A woman caressing the collarbone of another. A man by himself, gazing into the camera, at Niles, so intently Subaki flushed a deep crimson. He had gone through the entire album and began working backwards, image after image, something new and beautiful to admire each time.

“Do you like them?” Niles pressed so closely to him that Subaki’s arm was in his chest. His voice soothed like honey coating venomous pride. It would not matter to Niles what Subaki answered. His unconditional love for his work was so pure Subaki could not answer out of malice but honestly because he too, loved these pictures and he said so. He stopped at a women, naked and pregnant gazing at the camera. She was barely smiling, the corner of her lips raised slightly. Then he said, “they are perfect.”

“The men? The women?”

“Both. All.”

“Her especially?”

Subaki nodded. “And him.” He pointed to a light hair man with clear eyes obscuring half his face with his hand and a playful smirk on his lips.

Niles nodded thoughtfully. “I have others if you would like to see.”

“You would show me?” He felt like he was floating.

“I want to show you my best,” said Niles. Then he snaked his arm around Subaki’s shoulders and with a murmur in his ear he said, “They’re back at my place. Care to visit?”

Instantly, he became the intolerable man with the striking blue eye.

“Are you kidding me?” Coldly, Subaki shook Niles’ arm away from him. He glared at him. Red clashing with blue.

"Absolutely not." His hand slid under the table, finding Subaki’s knee. It did not rest, stroking his thigh. And with every touch he was left with, it felt like his anger left with it. Each stroke took his restraint and fed him desire and an eagerness that appalled him.

“Do not touch me,” said Subaki. “Stop touching me.” Yet when Niles did he was left with only enough consciousness to stop his hand from grasping onto Niles’ fingers and placing them where the heat had begun to consume him, begging for more. Then he was left with gasping breaths and his eyes found Niles watching him with half mast lids, the cup in his hand, acting like nothing had passed between them.

“You don’t want to? So then what? You go home and take care of it yourself in the bathroom while thinking of me?” And to this, Subaki flushed so madly Niles continued. “I’m here now and I want you.”

Niles’ hand snaked under the table again. But to his surprise, he reached for Subaki’s hand and it was not warm but hot, scorching him. Burning his skin and running up his veins until they reached his heart and he thought of nothing but grabbing a fistful of white hair and stripping Niles to explore every inch and crevice of his body and leaving him as exposed as how his words had left him.

Or so Subaki allowed himself to believe. He had been staring straight forward and only when his vision was no longer clouded by the winds Niles swept him away with did he come to find the cafe was almost empty and the music that played was that of which he had always loved. And Niles had seen too that the cafe was about to close and the night was still long and neither he or Subaki was satisfied.

One final coax. “It’ll feel a lot better with me,” was what Niles said to him.

Subaki looked away from him.

He was so tempted by the pictures, it always came back to the pictures. The pictures that he loved and the music he loved and the flame in his eye amidst the ice and the hands. The hands of this intolerable stranger that had now found their way underneath his clothing. And he muffled the soft moans and shameless voice of pleasure into his sleeve.

He was afraid.

He desired him.

Niles. He wanted Niles.

He wanted the hands that have captured those images to touch him. He wanted to be seen in that perfection. Make it painful. Make it painless. Do not leave me here, grasping for it like the light between my fingers.

Subaki closed his eyes.

Make it effortless and I’ll be with you. Capture me in that beauty and I’ll be yours. Make me perfect and I will never leave you. Let me be perfect and let you be the one to find it. But the words caught in his throat and his neck yearned towards Niles like a flower to the sun and he thought nothing of it for it had been too long, far too long since he had been touched, since he had wanted another. And he told himself that this would be tonight and tonight only and that this was not love and that he should expect nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this much quicker than I expected. This was a ship from C support and I was so surprised to find only 13 works for it on ao3 (now 14 haha). It feels so satisfying to finally have that green check mark next to Cursive. Espresso is now on ao3 so please feel free to follow it ^.^ Thank you for your amazing support and patience. Your support means the world to me. Thank you for making me brave enough to write and share my stories!
> 
> Follow Espresso here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9130717/chapters/20748346
> 
> See you in the new year =]


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